


Shards of Glass

by IcarusRe



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Benedict likes it up against the wall, Cumberbatch, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Outside Sex, RPF, Romance, Sex, benedict - Freeform, cumbersmut, hopefully not too cheesy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 30,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcarusRe/pseuds/IcarusRe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Anna's friend's story is made into a TV drama by the BBC, she is naturally pleased for him. And then she finds out who the star is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Alright?"

I looked up. "Morning," I said. "You ok?"

Olliver smiled at me. The big grin he always gave me never failed to cheer me up, even on a Monday morning when I was at my worst. I felt myself instantly softening.

"Good weekend?" I asked him. Nothing terrible ever happened to Olliver, or at least if it did, he played it down to a minor inconvenience.

"Yeah, good actually." He grinned again. "You?"

"Not bad." I said, noticing his smile was broader than usual and wondering what could have happened that would be making him grin like a cheshire cat. If he played down the bad things, he also had a habit of doing the same thing with good news. It was more than a little frustrating. I knew Olliver well and this morning he definitely seemed different, more animated than usual.

"I got an email from the BBC," he said. "They fucking loved my script!"

"Really?" I knew it. Olliver often gave me his stories to read through before he submitted them. He never usually had much more than a "thank you" acknowledgement back from the BBC though. 

"I knew it was good when I read it, much better than the last one." I said, then wished I hadn't been so honest. "Well, you know what I mean?" I fumbled, going red.

"Yeah, yeah, those other ones were shit." Olliver laughed at me.

"Oh, sorry, I mean... anyway, I'm trying to say I thought it was good too." I laughed as well. "That's brilliant news, how fantastic for you." I recovered and made a mental note to try and stop doing that.

"Yeah! They want to make it into a one-off drama, 90 minutes, on BBC One. BBC-fucking-One!" He was, completely out of character for Olliver, clearly amazed at this.

"Wow." I said. I hadn't really expected it to do that well. I was genuinely pleased for him. "Do you want an assistant?" I asked him, deliberately looking up through my fringe, which was too long, as usual.

"Always," he raised his eyebrows and made a flirty face back at me. I laughed. Olliver chuckled and I went back to typing my email.

I had known Olliver for about 5 years. We'd met at work and shared a mutual disdain for some of our colleagues. He brightened my day considerably, but we had come to an understanding; as horribly cliched as it sounded, some things were not meant to be. Although we had great chemistry as friends, that was it. No sparks, no tingles. Apart from some throw-away office flirting, obviously!

Olliver's screenplay was called Shards of Glass. There was a male lead, along with a couple of supporting actors and it was a spooky, atmospheric drama, culminating with a tense final scene at a misty, ruined abbey. It would be interesting to find out who would be cast in the roles, where it would be filmed and to experience, at least vicariously through Olliver, the process of making a TV drama.

The rest of the week passed fairly normally after Olliver's exciting news. I met my best friend Alex for lunch on Wednesday and on Saturday I cooked tea for her along with our friends Alice and Fran. We all sat in my house drinking wine and helping ourselves to the delicious brownies Fran had made. I loved being with my friends; together we could turn almost anything into a running joke. We were queens of sarcasm; bouncing off each other, knowing we were impossible to offend. If only it was that easy with everyone.

"Time for a film, I think." I said as I poured us all another glass of wine. "Do I need to ask?"

"Armageddon!" Alex, Alice and Fran cried out and we all cheered. It was our tradition, we loved action films and anything with a ridiculous end-of-the-world-averted-by-American-hero plot.

"Did you catch up with Sherlock?" Alex asked me.

"I did." I replied. "I loved it. I loved him." I said, referring, of course, to the title character.

"I love him too," she agreed. I went into a little daydream about the episode I had just watched, The Sign of Three. The way Sherlock's eyes glowed against the bright yellow walls during the wedding scene. The brilliant speech, the drunk stag night and Sherlock "clueing for looks". It made me smile to myself, helped along no doubt by a bit too much wine. Alex was oblivious to my reverie and was concentrating on Armageddon again.

"Oh!" shrieked Fran suddenly.

"What on Earth...?" said Alice.

"Sorry!" Fran said, "but I just remembered something! I saw Olliver today, while I was at the gym. He was really excited, really, REALLY excited. He told me the BBC have cast the lead for Shards of Glass. Ladies, take a deep breath... Its... Benedict fucking Cumberbatch!"

I gulped on the wine I was in the middle of drinking and blinked at Fran.

"Wow!" said Alex.

"Bloody hell." Alice contributed.

"Shit!" I said.


	2. Chapter 2

When I had asked Olliver if I could help him out, I had been making a genuine offer. But now I knew who the star was, I was beside myself. I tried to ignore my inner fangirl, who was constantly reminding me that I had an opportunity to meet Britain's biggest rising star. Who also happened to be hot.

So, I was gobsmacked when Olliver came in to work a few weeks later and said he thought he would be able to take a couple of people along to watch Stained Glass being made. My face started flushing and I could feel my heart pounding. I pulled myself together and replied as nonchalantly as I could. "Oh, right. That's brilliant. Give me the details and I'll let you know. I'm sure I can work something out. Thanks."

"No problem. If we stay over it's an opportunity to get you drunk, so that should be amusing." He made a vulgar gesture and I smiled. He really should stop doing that in the middle of the office, I thought.

As it turned out, it would be an overnight stay. A week later, myself, Alex, Alice and Fran pitched up to the train station, clutching coffees in our freezing cold hands and copies of the Guardian newspaper under our arms. The first lot of filming was at various locations in York and, after a short train journey, we arrived at the beautiful walled city.

York was a small city, so the cast and crew were split between two hotels: the Guy Fawkes Inn and the Cedar Court Grand Hotel. Both were lovely old establishments, with beautiful bedrooms and welcoming bars complete with roaring log fires. My friends and I were staying at the Guy Fawkes as Olliver had somehow managed to book us a double room. Although we had shared small spaces before, this was the first time we'd tried to cram all four of us into one room. We were planning to have a few drinks after we'd been to the set and crash out.

"Great room," Fran said. "Shame about just the one bed."

"It will be fine." I replied, looking around. "There's room for someone on the floor and there's a chair, someone can have that for a bit." I wasn't terribly convinced.

Alice was unimpressed, "Hmmm."

Once we had dropped off our bags we traipsed over to the York Museum, where filming was taking place that day. Inside, there was a large area cordoned off from the public to allow space for filming and I spotted Olliver, hovering around quite close to the director. He looked like he was deep in thought. I glanced around the set quickly and I couldn't see any of the cast. They must be on a tea break, I thought. Grabbing Alex's hand I started striding towards Olliver, winding through the assembled crew who all seemed to be deep in thought as well.

"Hey, Oll!" I said, quite loudly, in his direction. He didn't seem to have heard me.

"Oll-i-ver." I said, louder, in a sing-song voice. As I sang the final syllable of his name, I had a dawning realisation that I might be interrupting something. My legs were still mid-stride but I could feel Alex starting to pull her hand away. I scanned the large museum gallery we were in. Some of the people were turning to look at me.

Suddenly, something made contact with my right shin. It was solid but quickly gave way slightly. I was going at such a pace that I didn't have time to see what it was I'd knocked into.

Both of my feet were off the floor and my leg was now stinging. It felt wet, and...hot. Then my shoulder hit the cold, shiny, marble floor of the museum with a hard thud. That hurt.

"What the fuck?" I heard a vaguely familiar, baritone growl. My stomach, which was already struggling to work out where it was in relation to the rest of me, lurched towards the ground. I located Alex's face through my fringe and realised she was giggling out of sheer embarrassment.

My leg was still stinging and I seemed to have landed in a puddle; it was soaking through my jeans. I saw an empty takeaway coffee cup to my left, on its side, without a lid.

"Argh!" I managed to spit out.

Olliver was walking slowly towards me, a script in his hand. His face was softening as he watched me trying to make sense of what just happened. "Nice work," he said.

I sat up, realising that the liquid I could feel all over my legs was, in fact, tea. I was sitting in a puddle of tea. I was sitting in a puddle of Benedict Cumberbatch's tea. Great.

"Oh.... Shit. I mean, oh God. I'm really... sorry." I garbled and realised that, true to form, I was now bright red in the face. "What just happened?" I hid behind my fringe.

"Jesus." Benedict said. He was, or had been before I ran straight into him, crouched down with his script, discussing a minor point of contention with the director and Olliver. "Can you people just watch where you're going? Please." He sounded really pissed off. He had broken his own fall with his hand, which was on the cold floor, propping him up. An errant curl had sprung away and had fallen forward onto his forehead. He looked amazing. Angry, but amazing.

Of course, at that moment, any ability I might have had to make a witty, charming recovery completely deserted me. "Sorry," I almost whispered it. I briefly caught Benedict's eye as I spoke, but I looked away immediately, pushing my fringe away from my eyes so I could begin to get my bearings.

"Ok, let's get this mess cleaned up and get on." One of the crew shouted. It might even have been the director. Benedict stood up and brushed down his coat and jeans. Then he walked away, giving his head a little shake of annoyance and running his hand through his hair to put it back into place.

"Can we get Mr Cumberbatch another cup of tea?" An over-eager assistant shouted, scurrying past me and my friends as Alex helped me up. Olliver squeezed my shoulder gently and went back over to talk to the director.

"Well, that was a splendid display, Anna." Alice nodded her head at me in mock approval.

"Awesome." Fran agreed quietly.

"Urgh." I said. "Can we go somewhere else for a bit? I need to dry off, and I need to find a rock to crawl under."

Alex laughed, "Come on, let's find the café. We can get a cup of... tea." She chuckled and put her arm round my shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

We spent the rest of the morning hiding in the café and wandering around the museum while I dried out and tried to forget what an absolute tool I was. After several coffees and harsh piss-taking from my friends I started to see the funny side of me falling over my celebrity crush in the middle of York museum. No, actually, it wasn't funny, but at the age of 34 I couldn't sulk about it for too long.

After the break for lunch, we went back to the set and hung in the background as carefully and quietly as we could. We saw Benedict do a few scenes, as well as other actors, and they were all brilliant. Benedict was wearing dark jeans, chunky boots and a leather jacket and his hair was a mid-brown colour, short at the sides and just long enough on top to start curling. He looked as though he'd regained some of the weight he had probably lost for the last series of Sherlock.

Towards the end of the afternoon, Olliver came over to where we were standing and gave us a satisfied smile. "It's going well," he said. "Despite your efforts to annoy our star."

"I had almost forgotten about that," I groaned. "Thanks so much for reminding me."

"Ah, don't worry," Olliver nudged me on the shoulder. "He'll have forgotten about it by now. He's fine. Don't beat yourself up."

I felt slightly better. It didn't look like Benedict had been too bothered by it so I decided to put it behind me and concentrate on having a good evening with my friends in this lovely city. We made arrangements to meet in the hotel lobby later on and decide from there what we would do that evening.

***

I was ready for a proper drink! Alex ordered a round for us all and we sat at a small, dark wood table dotted with beer mats. We sat and chatted and Olliver joined us. I felt relaxed after the day's activity, and I was enjoying my friends' company.

"Alice saw Tony Blair on a train once." Alex was reminding us.

"He was eating crisps," Alice agreed proudly.

"You should have licked his face!" Alex laughed.

"I know." Alice chuckled.

We had a running joke about licking people's faces, it was childish but it made us laugh.

"Ok, are we moving on or are we having some more drinks here?" I asked. We often planned to go places and ended up sat in one pub when we got too comfortable.

"Drinks, please!" Fran said. I rolled my eyes, but really, I was having a good time just sat here. The bar was busy enough that we didn't feel self-conscious but not so much that we would have to wait ages to get drinks. Alex, Alice and Olliver agreed, so I stood up to go to the bar. I decided to nip quickly to the ladies' before I ordered our drinks. 

When I emerged out of the toilets I saw that my friends had quietened down and were behaving a little subdued. Alex caught my eye and gave me a huge smile, raising her eyebrows in the process. Odd, I thought, but I turned to my right and headed towards the bar to get our drinks.

I waited patiently at the bar while the guy served another customer. Then, when he was finished he turned his head to me. I started to ask for our drinks but before I could finish my sentence I was shoved to my right by a massive shoulder. I turned around to see two large men leaning on the bar, shouting their drinks order at the barman. The barman looked at me and opened his mouth to say something, which I hoped was along the lines of, "this person was here first."

By some miracle, though, I found my voice. It might have been the small amount of alcohol I had had, but I managed to say: "Excuse me! Arsehole." The man who had shoved me turned and looked at me and I glared. I saw something flicker across his face and hoped he wasn't going to hit me. Then he just grumbled to himself and moved. I thought I heard a "Sorry," as he and his friend scurried away.

The familiar blush had crept up to my cheeks but I looked at the barman and said, "Well, that was annoying. Five pints of Guiness please?"

Just then I became very aware of a figure to my right, at the far corner of the bar.

Head down and covered by a grey wool flat cap, I heard a deep voice chuckling. I looked over, my still flushed face hidden slightly by my ever-present fringe. A pair of green-blue-grey-oh-whatever-colour-they-are eyes met mine. I swallowed hard and smiled. I tried to make it a sexy smile but I'm pretty sure I just looked nervous. Benedict smiled back at me.

"That was impressive," he said.

"Thanks. You know... it happens all the time." I said. Fuck!

"Calling enormous men arseholes, or sending cups of tea flying?" Benedict asked me. I smiled at him, because, of course, I had now lost all ability to think of anything funny or clever to say.

"Um," I said as I flicked my fringe away and then decided I needed to hind behind it after all.

He chuckled again and I was grateful when the barman told me how much the drinks were. I handed over a twenty pound note and looked at my feet. Benedict was still sitting there smiling at me, one of those adorable smiles that made his face crinkle slightly around his eyes.

"I... I really am... s-sorry about that..." I stammered, getting annoyed at myself for being so inarticulate.

"Yeah, you said that earlier." He was holding a whisky glass and brought it up to his lips to take a sip. He was wearing one of those gorgeous grey scarves he liked to pair with the flat cap. I had seen him wearing a similar combination in photos.

I took my change from the barman and looked at the five pint glasses lined up on the bar. I could feel Benedict's eyes on me and he must have seen what was going through my mind, "Let me give you a hand with those." I noticed that it wasn't a question, more an indication of what he was going to do.

"Thanks." I said, and I grabbed hold of three of the glasses, using my middle fingers to grip the third glass.

I - carefully - made my way over to the table where my friends were waiting and he followed behind. He must have seen Alex grinning at me as I caught her eye before I sat down.

"Mate," Olliver said, jumping up from the table and greeting Benedict like an old friend, instead of the actor he had met just a couple of weeks ago. "Will you join us?"

"Oh, um, yeah. I will, if that's alright with everybody?" Benedict said, and I noticed that he was looking straight at me. I went red again, damn it. I adjusted the thick scarf around my own neck, as everyone mumbled that: yes, that was actually fine for him to join us for a drink. I took a deep breath and tried to relax a bit. 

Alex leaned in towards my ear and said in a not very quiet voice, "You have GOT to lick his face." I stared at my pint of Guinness as I waited for the rest of the table, all of whom would definitely have heard her, to react.


	4. Chapter 4

Alex leaned in towards my ear and said in a not-very-quiet voice, "You have GOT to lick his face." I stared at my pint of Guinness as I waited for the rest of the table, all of whom would definitely have heard her, to react.

I closed my eyes and made a strange, nervous sound from the back of my throat. Oh fantastic, the most mobbed British star on the planet had joined us for a drink and just when we were managing to be cool about it, Alex reminds us all that I have a massive thing for him. As if my tripping over him wasn't bad enough, now he had to deal with us making jokes about licking him.

When I opened my eyes, everyone was looking at Alex. Apparently I was destined to spend the whole evening blushing right up to my eyebrows. Olliver was obviously a little annoyed at this too and told Alex to grow up. Benedict just looked down and made a forced smile into his drink.

"Well," I said. "I'm going to have to get very drunk now. It's the only way I can deal with this!" Thankfully, I managed to break the tension.

About forty minutes later, things had calmed down, we had done our introductions and we were chatting away as a group. Benedict had a really easy way about him and joined in our ridiculous musings about all sorts of silly things. I tried not to catch his eye too often as every time I did I flushed slightly. I'm sure no-one else could tell, but I knew how my heart thudded just a little harder each time I remembered where I was, and with whom.

Olliver was sat next to me. "You ok, little one?" He asked.

I smiled a relaxed (drunk) grin at him and thought how comfortable I felt, right at this minute, with all my best friends around me, not to mention the beautiful man sat on the other side of the table.

"I am." I replied.

"You're still planning to sleep on the floor, then?" Olliver asked me, referring to our current room situation.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I said. "I've done worse!" I giggled and had another gulp of my beer. I couldn't actually remember how much I'd had to drink.

"I've got space, if you fancy a cuddle...?" Olliver had never been this direct with me before. He put his hand gently on my knee and left it there. He'd done that before, playfully, but this time it felt more purposeful, as if he was making a point. I wasn't entirely sure how to react but I realised it probably had a lot to do with Benedict's presence, and of course Olliver knew all about how much I fancied our new friend.

I cast my eyes around the table and although Benedict was chatting amiably to Alice and Fran, he glanced over to Olliver's hand on my knee and I'm sure I saw a slight frown flash across his forehead. I was a little bit drunk and I thought Benedict must now be coming to the conclusion that I was just a total embarrassment, not to be trusted where there were any beverages involved; alcohol or tea!

"But, I think I ought to stop drinking now." I declared, sitting up straight and removing Olliver's hand. Olliver tutted and went to get himself another drink before last orders.

Alice disappeared outside for a smoke, Alex and Fran went to the ladies and it was then I noticed the absence of people and the comfort they provided. I was now painfully aware that I was on my own with Benedict.

He moved seats and sat down next to me.

"Hi." He said. He held my gaze even though I tried to look down. Oh god, the blushing.... Again!

"Hi." I replied. Words!

"I had a good evening, Anna." Benedict told me. I felt like there was something else he was saying with his eyes but I brushed that thought aside. "Although, I don't usually feel like hanging out with people who spill my tea," he continued. "My tea is very special to me." He pulled a serious face.

I laughed and knew that the incident, although not forgotten, was not worth worrying about anymore. He obviously wasn't too bothered and it didn't seem to have made too negative an impact on him.

"Well, I should be getting back." Benedict said. "I'm in the other hotel, came here as it's a nicer pub and they have my favourite whisky. I'm... glad I did. Oh!" He picked up my phone which was on the table in front of me. Unlocking it and turning the lens around to face us, he said, "This is for your friend." He giggled mischievously to himself, stuck out his tongue and put his face right up next to mine. Click!

As he moved away, putting my phone back down on the table, I took a deep breath. He smelled amazing; just a hint of expensive cologne.

And before I could say anything (I was still enjoying the smell), he quickly leant over, kissed my cheek, and then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, starting to regret my earlier confidence that all four of us sharing a room had been a great idea. The other three had crammed themselves into the large double bed, so I was left with either the chair or the floor and of course the chair had taken preference. 

But, I doubted it was the lack of a bed that was stopping me falling asleep. I couldn't get the day's events out of my head. Olliver had been acting weird, like something had changed between us but I didn't know what. In the course of our friendship we had addressed and re-addressed our relationship and repeatedly came to the conclusion that we were not destined to be together. He had known me have a couple of semi-serious boyfriends and had never acted like this. I wasn’t sure why we were going there again. 

Then there was the tall, elegant, goofy, sexy Mr Cumberbatch, who - I'm sure I wasn't imagining it - had also been on the verge of flirting with me. I thought about those few seconds when he had taken the photo. He hadn’t actually licked me, but he was so close to me I could feel the warmth of him next to my face.

I reached out to the table for my phone, to look again at the photo he had taken. It wasn't the best photo of either of us; I looked slightly bemused, Benedict looked like a small child doing something he thought was funnier than it actually was. Of course, he was also pointing at our faces. I stared at his hand. It was something many people noticed about him and in real life they looked even bigger. My mind wandered a bit...

'Text message. Unknown number' my phone flashed, interrupting my train of thought which had moved on considerably. 

*It was lovely talking to you tonight, Anna. Sleep well. Ben*

Holy crap! I wasn't expecting that. 

I typed out a few responses, deleting each one for being unsuitable, before settling on: 

*Lovely to talk with you too. Sleeping not going too well tonight, worrying about how famous actors can guess mobile phone numbers. Sorry again about the tea.* I pressed send and pushed the heel of my hand into my forehead. 

30 seconds later: *Don't keep apologising. If it bothers you so much, buy me a replacement tomorrow.* 10 seconds after that: *And your friends are rubbish at keeping your secrets, including your phone number.*

Did he just ..? How much did Alex say to him? There was no chance of me sleeping now.

*OK. Just promise not to lick me again?* I sent. 

*No. Night! Ben*

Now he definitely was flirting. Wasn't he? And this time no-one could see me blushing. 

***  
The next morning I was showered and ready to go early and I waited for the others to do likewise. I had drifted off to a restless and uncomfortable sleep at around 2.30am, after re-reading my text conversation with Ben about 15 times. Luckily, our train wasn't until mid-afternoon so we had time to go back to the museum. I felt a little giddy but I decided not to tell my friends what had happened while they were sleeping. Alex had asked me a few questions about him on our way to the museum that morning, especially after I showed her the photo of Ben and me. She must have known he was going to get in touch; she was the one who'd given him my number, I was fairly sure.

The girls decided they'd had enough standing around and went off to explore one of the other exhibitions. Something to do with medieval pottery. I said I would find them later and tried to make myself totally inconspicuous at the back of the film set. I didn't want Ben to see me standing around waiting for him; it would look too desperate and, despite everything that had happened, I seemed to have made a good impression on him. 

At about quarter past eleven, I looked up from the book I had been reading to see Ben bounding towards me. Me! My heart thudded and I felt a bit sick. 

"Hi!" He boomed. 

I smiled. I was all of a sudden aware that I'd worn quite a short skirt, albeit with thick black tights and chunky biker boots. Oh well, too late now.

"Hi. Have you had a good morning?" I asked him. 

He ran his hand through his hair and I was glad I was still sitting on a museum bench. 

"Yes, thanks, everyone seems pleased with the way it's going. I'm happy with my work, so, yeah." 

"Good." I said as I stood up, shoving my book into my bag and flicking my fringe out of my eyes. 

We chatted a little while we walked to the café and I bought us a drink each. Then we wandered through the museum, laughing about some of the jokes we had been making the previous evening. We stopped a couple of times so that Ben could sign autographs but we reached a lovely quiet spot in one of the far-off galleries and sat next to each other on a bench. 

"What is all this stuff in here anyway?" I said. Wow, great way to make yourself sound stupid, I thought. But I noticed that I was, for once, and despite my close proximity to this sought-after man, NOT blushing. 

"No idea." He laughed. I winced as I remembered an excruciating trip to the Louvre a few years ago. "What?" He asked me.

"Oh, I was just thinking that, I know I should be fascinated with it all, but I really only have a tolerance of about forty five minutes when it comes to museum exhibitions." I said. "I mean, I love looking at paintings, and this old building is wonderful, but... bits of old pottery, it's just..."

"A bit dull?" He interrupted. 

"Yes. Sorry." I looked down at my boots. 

"I agree actually." He said, still smiling but tilting his head to the side to try and make eye contact with me. I looked up through my fringe to meet his eyes. 

Silence. 

He was just looking at me. Not saying anything. I broke away from his gaze and took a sip of my tea. I thought again that I wasn't flushing, I wasn't panicking. I was feeling quite relaxed, here, in the museum, sitting on a marble bench next to Benedict. 

"It's... quite a romantic old place isn't it? All the ancient plates aside." I said and wondered if I'd gone too far. 

It seemed not. He continued looking at me and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. I took a deep breath, slowly and steadily releasing it, and a smile formed on my lips.

Ben took a long drink of his tea, jumped up onto his feet and held out his hand in front of me. I looked up to meet his eyes and this time I brushed my hair away from my face. I placed my hand in his and it looked tiny in comparison to those long fingers. He clasped my hand and oh, it was so soft! For a fleeting second I felt a tingle down my spine. Then I was on my feet as well and he was bounding back down the museum hallway, me skipping along to keep up. I had no idea where we were going, but I was grinning like a fool, and I noticed that Ben was too.


	6. Chapter 6

I clung on to Ben’s hand as he strode with great purpose down the corridor and rounded one corner, and then another. Adjacent to the lift, he found a fire escape door and then we were out on the cold stone staircase. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

“Where…?” I said, to myself.

“Come on!” He said authoritatively and I felt like I’d been transported straight into Sherlock, only the long wool coat and John Watson were missing.

“There had better not be a dead body at the end of this.” I laughed as we raced up the steps two at a time.

We reached the top of the fire escape and Ben let go of my hand, pushing open a door leading out onto the roof of the museum. He stopped, turned around to me and gestured with his arm and a broad smile that I should go past him. I gasped and walked over towards the edge of the building and Ben let the door close behind us, wedging a piece of broken chimney stack in to stop it closing completely.

“Wow,” I couldn’t think of anything else to say, it looked beautiful. We could see the city of York in all directions and the Minster over to our left. The blue sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds but the sun was shining. Was this man always quite so romantic? I wondered. Maybe he was just being friendly. I didn’t dare let myself continue that train of thought.

“I discovered this when we were filming last week. I could come up and have a smoke without being… bothered.” He hesitated and I realised it was because he had remembered my behaviour the previous day, not to mention my friends and their ‘humour’, and that I was basically a ‘fan’. “My earliest memory is of the sky above my parents’ flat,” he said. I nodded; I had read that somewhere.

Over the previous half an hour, I had completely forgotten that I was a fan and he was an actor, but he had reminded us both by accident. I felt stupid for pointing out the romantic setting when we had been drinking our tea downstairs and I was suddenly worried about what he thought again.

He stood and looked out at the view, his face serious. I let the breeze blow my fringe in front of my eyes and tried not to think about it, concentrating on the fact that it was actually quite cold up there.

“So you go back today?” he asked, without turning around.

“Yeah, I’ve got work and stuff.” I smiled. “It’s been lovely hanging out with you though. Thanks.”

“Thank you.” He turned back to face me and must have realised I was cold because he started to take off his jacket. “Here…”

“No, don’t do that!” I laughed as he put it around my shoulders. “You’re a sensitive soul, I don’t want you to get pneumonia again.”

His face creased up and he made one of those enormous, lop-sided smiles that took over his whole face, as I disappeared inside his jacket. I moved my arms around to show that I couldn’t see my hands anymore and I bent forward, laughing. As I stood upright again, he put his arm up towards me.

“There’s something…” he started and then stopped. His long hand came to rest on my face. His eyes were on my lips and he stroked my chin gently with his thumb. It felt like a feather. Then he moved his hand down towards my neck. I exhaled deeply and thought I might explode from the tension.

I blinked as his other hand came up to brush my fringe out of my eyes, and then we were looking straight at each other. I smiled again, a nervous reaction. Although I didn’t feel relaxed, watching what was unfolding in front of me, I also felt a sense that this was somehow right. It was natural.

“...Benedict... BENEDICT?” I blinked as we were interrupted by a voice yelling up the staircase. "Are you up there? You're needed back on set."

"Uh! Yes! I'll... Be right down." Ben shouted back. He pulled away from me and ran his hand through his hair. He looked a little bit embarrassed and bit his bottom lip.

I was already shrugging out of his leather jacket and handing it back him.

"Sorry, Anna. I've..."

"It's ok, really."

"Catch me before you go?"

"Yeah."

Ben held the door open for me but once I was through it, he ran down the stairs, leaving me behind. I felt heavy and plodded down each one.

***

I couldn't face being on the set after that, so I sat in various places around the museum entrance for an hour or so, before I messaged Alex to say I would meet them at the station at 2pm. I didn't see Ben at all, although I looked around periodically for him. When it was time to head to the station, I went to find Olliver.

"I'll see you next week?" I asked him. There was a break in filming and I knew he would have to be back at work in London for a while; he would only have so many holidays to take.

"Yup," he said. "Anna?" 

"Yes." I felt weary and I couldn't really be bothered with his silliness, which I could tell was coming.

He put down the script he had been holding and scooped me up into a hug. I didn't move; didn't hug him back, but neither did I try to wriggle away. The abrupt ending to Ben and my - whatever it was - on the roof, had left me drained and there was a part of me that needed the comfort. I was aware, though, that Olliver was the wrong person to give it to me.

As he released me I stepped back and turned around, just in time to see Ben on his way out of the gallery. I couldn't tell if he had even seen me.

***

I sat down with a huff as the train pulled out of York station. I thought about everything that had happened in the last day and a half and I had to smile to myself. Pulling my phone out of my bag, I checked it for any messages. There were none.

***

I went back to work as planned the next week. I hadn't heard anything from Ben at all and I was starting to think it might have been a weird little distraction for him whilst he was bored on location. Olliver returned as well and after the odd behaviour in York, he too seemed to be back to his old self. We joked about our co-workers, raised eyebrows in meetings and generally reverted to our previous relationship. However, when Olliver asked me to the pub three weeks later, I made up an excuse not to go. The hand on my knee had bothered me and I wanted to make sure he wasn't getting the wrong signals from me. No need to raise his hopes un-necessarily.

That evening I was at home, just getting into my pyjamas early for a date with my sofa and TV, when I heard my phone buzz. It was a text. From Ben!

*I'm at an awful party. No dancing, no good whisky, not even any tea. Should I try and lick someone?*

*Definitely lick someone! How are you?* I sent back, but I wished I'd been braver. I went in to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water from the tap. I almost didn't hear my phone ringing. It was him.

"Hi, Ben!" I said, possibly a little too enthusiastically.

"Hello." Oh God, his voice on the phone sounded even sexier than in real life, if that was possible. I shook my head at the cliché and wondered what I was going to say next.

But I didn't have to. "Anna! I'm ever so sorry I haven't been in touch, I've just been so busy the last few weeks. I've been wondering about giving you a ring and it just didn't seem to happen... Anyway, I was here at this party and it's so crap I realised I should just use the time wisely and ring you now to see how you are," he paused for a second, I think he could hear the kettle coming to a boil. "So, how are you? Where are you? It sounds noisy. Oh no, did I interrupt something?"

I giggled down the phone at him. The man could talk when he wanted to. "No, no, I'm at home. I was about to go to bed actually." I didn't think he needed to know I was already in my PJs.

"Oh, that sounds like a good idea. I wish... Well, anyway. I was wondering. I don't really understand what your situation is with Olliver and I don't want to tread on any toes, but, I was, um, hoping we could meet up again? There's loads of museums in London."

He's just asked me out. Properly, out?

"Haha! Well, only if there's an endless supply of old plates. That's an absolute must, I just cannot get enough of the old pottery." I laughed.

"I promise. I've got some free time next week, shall I text you?"

"Great. Now get back to your awesome party."

He groaned. "Next time you'll have to come with me." It wasn't a question.


	7. Chapter 7

Benedict Cumberbatch had asked me out. Each time I remembered, I felt a mixture of excitement, crushing nerves and massive anticipation. I remembered how it had felt in the museum and on the roof and even though my sensible head was yelling at me that it was too perfect, too cheesy, I couldn't deny that it had been amazing. 

Ben sent me a message later on that week and asked if I was free the following Wednesday. We arranged to meet at 8pm outside a pub not too far from my house.

"Adventurous." I teased as he kissed my hand in greeting. "I thought you did loads of extreme sports and high adrenaline testosterone man stuff. I'm surprised we're not skydiving."

"I do like doing all that. But, I also like sitting in pubs, especially when I have good company." His eyes were twinkling. Fuck!

"Well that's something we have in common, so as soon as I find some good company I may have to give you the slip."

He laughed and put his arm around my shoulder as we walked towards the bar. It was a friendly gesture but it felt so good to be touched by him again.

He got us a couple of drinks and we sat in a booth, opposite each other. The pub wasn't busy at all and if anyone had recognised him they didn't let on.

We talked about lots of things, in that un-self-conscious way that happens when you're not worrying about what to talk about. He told me about his parents, some of the funny things him and Martin Freeman had done on the set of Sherlock, and where he had travelled to. I had done a bit of travelling and we shared some favourite places. We found that we had quite a lot in common, but more importantly for me, I felt so comfortable chatting away to him.

A few drinks later and all of a sudden I was aware that there was a limited amount of time left. I looked at my phone to check the time, and saw that there was a text from Olliver. I cancelled the phone quickly but not before Ben had seen.

"You're going to check that?" He said.

"Nah. It won't be important." I replied, cursing Olliver's timing.

"Ok. Listen, I have no right to ask, but..." He hesitated.

"There's nothing going on," I said. "I know it looks that way sometimes, but really. There was a time when we thought about it, but it's not anything I want to go back to." I hoped that had come out right.

Ben looked serious. "Alright," he said. "Shall we get one more drink before I walk you home?"

While he went to the bar I sat and thought about the last thing he had said. I wondered what I was going to do. I had done all the things you do before a date and made sure I had on some good underwear so I felt confident if anything did happen. But, I also knew I should probably hold back a little, in the interests of retaining a little mystique!

I decided to see what happened.

Ben might have been having similar thoughts, because when he came back to the table, instead of facing me, he sat down next to me in the booth.

I took a sip of my drink and licked my lips, just as my goddamn fringe jumped out from behind my ear and fell right in front of my eyes. Ben started to laugh and sipped his own drink.

"Just as I was TRYING to be sexy." I said, shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head.

"Oh, you don't need to try, Anna," was his reply. His voice was so low it was a growl. It resonated through me.

I shook my head again and smiled "Oh, God, neither do you!" I blurted out. "But, I guess you already know that."

"It's still nice to be told it by someone... who I..." he trailed off. He had a habit of not finishing his sentences, I noticed.

He made a face, like he was trying to start over again. Then he smiled one of the huge, natural Cumberbatch smiles, like he had relaxed once more. He bent his head down as he did.

I decided to face this, quite literally head on, and turned my whole body round towards him. He looked up, and just like he had on the roof, his elegant fingers moved my hair away from my eyes, brushing my face softly. Then he moved his hand down and ran his thumb across my lips. I felt like I might start shaking.

I stared into his magnificent eyes and I could see all the different colours, all shining with an energy I'd never seen before. It was a tiny bit scary.

"Anna." He said, and at that moment he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and pulled me towards him. Holy shit! I was screaming inside. His grip on me was strong but it didn't need to be. I leaned in to him and tilted my face up to meet his, as he brought his lips down. It was firm, but it was soft, gentle.

His lips on mine. His hand still on my head, in my hair. He opened his mouth and I responded by flicking my tongue towards his bottom lip.

It felt like the kiss had lasted somewhere between 2 seconds and 2 hours, before he broke contact. He didn't move away, holding his grip on me. He rested his forehead against mine and shut his eyes again, a slow smile creasing up his face. I yelped a quick "Fuck!" which in truth I hadn't meant to say out loud.

"Oh, Anna..." he growled, pulling me out of the booth we had been in and handing me my jacket.

***  
We walked quickly out of the pub, stumbling a little bit when we reached the pavement. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the growing tension, but Ben clasped my hand in his and we suddenly weren't talking any more.

"Oh, fuck it." He said when we were halfway to my house, and he pulled me into a small garden area lying between two shops. He pushed me up against the wall, where the street light didn't quite reach, and we were again face to face, only this time I couldn't make out what his eyes were doing.

His hands encircled my head, his thumbs on each of my cheeks, and he stooped down, bending his knees slightly, to kiss me again.

This time it wasn't gentle, it was desperate, filled with both need and power. He bit down on my bottom lip and I opened my mouth wider. His hands moved down to my waist and pulled me in towards him, but then he pushed me backwards against the wall with his own hips. My mind was focussed; all I could think about was how it felt, how right it felt.

I had my hands on his arms, squeezing his biceps through his jacket, and I moved one hand up to his neck, resting my fingers on his short hair and pulling him closer to me, I needed to feel the kiss go on and on.

He moaned as I moved the tips of my fingers in his hair, and he bucked his hips into me, slamming me against the wall again and taking my breath away. I didn't care. I could feel him getting hard under his jeans and I knew we had to stop this before it went any further in public. It was almost impossible, but I managed to make a noise with my throat that was loud enough for him to take notice and pull away from the kiss.

"What's wrong, are you ok? Did I...?" He still had me pinned against the wall but the posture of his shoulders altered to show his concern.

"No, no, no, it's fine. I'm good. I just." I stammered, putting my hands down by my sides. He stood up, releasing me. "I just don't think we should... here." I said. "I mean, I REALLY want to. But, you know? Ben?"

He swallowed. "I guess you're right. Yes. Ok. Um, I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away there."

I stood up and brushed my hair down.

"Come on, let's get a cup of coffee at mine."


	8. Chapter 8

We walked back to my house in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was tense, full of the promise of what we had started.

I unlocked the door and held it open for Ben, looking up at him with a smirk. He hesitated on the step and said, "Are you sure this is OK?"

"Yes." I said. I didn't want to talk anymore.

I put the lights on in the living room and went to the kitchen to fill the kettle, although I wasn't sure why I was bothering. He followed me in and stood up close behind me. I felt his hands gently come to rest on my shoulders. He leant down and put his soft lips to the side of my neck under my ear. I heard him let out a deep, deep sigh and it felt like the vibration went down my spine and radiated heat between my legs. I inhaled his wonderful scent and closed my eyes.

"Stay. Right. There." He told me. I didn't move, didn't even open my eyes.

He moved his hands slowly down my arms, reaching my own hands and pressing them down on the kitchen counter. I leaned my head back onto his shoulder as he towered behind me.

Ben moved his hands to my waist and held me there for a second, still moving his lips slowly up and down my neck; not kisses, just flutters. Then his hands were on my breasts and I started to find it difficult to stay still. I could hear his breath becoming harder and harder against the sensitive skin on my neck.

"Ah." I gasped, as his fingers found my nipples through my jumper and bra.

"Shhh." He whispered. I tried to move a hand up to find his face behind me, but he stopped me and placed it back on the worktop again. "I'm going to make you come. OK, Anna?"

"Huh." Was all I could manage.

"Keep your hands down." He said into my ear, and then he switched to the other side of my neck, this time adding little bites and flicks of his tongue. As his left hand continued to tease at my nipple, his other hand moved down to my tummy. His splayed fingers held tightly as he pushed at my behind with his hips, his thigh forcing my legs just a little further apart. I could feel him hard again, and wished I could turn around to kiss his lips, feel his arousal for myself.

But I got the feeling he didn't want to be argued with, didn't like to be argued with. In truth, this turned me on even more.

The hand on my tummy moved down and two strong fingers pressed hard on the seam in my jeans. I wondered if I would come right there and then; I was so torn between the need for a release and not wanting this to ever end.

"Oh, God. Please." I garbled out.

"Yes." He answered. He undid the button on my jeans. He slid his hand down, between the material of my knickers and my jeans, his warm fingers searching through the fabric. It was killing me.

He groaned when he realised how wet I was, and flicked a finger up to make contact with me through the thin material. I cried out, the sense that the anticipation might be reaching an end filling me with fear and lust all at once.

His kisses on my neck became even harder; they were so forceful I had to steady myself against the worktop I was clinging to.

His other hand was grabbing at my breast now, and he was rubbing his hard cock against me, tiny involuntary thrusts at the small of my back. His fingers squirmed against the material of my knickers, regular circular movements, and I could feel it building with every desperate gasp.

"I'm... Oh, God, Ben!" I said, trying to pull myself together but failing.

"Come for me Anna. Do it." He commanded. And I did. I let it go, screaming out as I shook through each burst of pleasure. My head fell forward and my knees buckled underneath me, Ben's strong arm holding me around my waist as he stilled his fingers, waiting for me to catch my breath.

He slid his hand back up out of my jeans, turning me around and allowing me to lean my back against the worktop for stability.

Then the gentle Ben kisses were back and his soft lips were full of romance again as he gripped my arms tenderly, pulling me in to a hug.

"Fuck, Ben. I don't know what to say." I was still breathing hard but I'd regained control of my legs just enough that he didn't have to hold me up any longer.

He laughed. "Don't say anything if you don't want to." He said, resting his chin on my head, his arms enveloping me. I blinked.

"I only wanted coffee." I said, into his armpit.

He laughed, and I listened to the sound through this amazing man's chest. Then I heard a buzzing, coming from my bag on the kitchen table. I realised it was my phone and decided to ignore it.

"Get that if you want." Ben said.

"No, it's ok. What about..." I started, wondering if we had finished what we'd begun, but actually feeling completely exhausted by what had just happened.

"I'm fine." He said, releasing me. "I should probably go. Got to be up early"

I walked over and found the phone, still buzzing, and looked at the screen. It was Olliver. Again.


	9. Chapter 9

Ben had kissed me again; a long, masterful embrace that made we feel weak. Then he had left, telling me that it was fine and that I should deal with whatever was going on. I had answered the third call from Olliver, after I had poured myself a strong drink and sat down before I keeled over. 

Olliver was drunk. “Anna, come on!” he was shouting. “Why are you messing around with him? He’s not interested in you, he’s having a laugh!”

I let him finish his rant and said, “Olliver, it’s not any of your business. You don’t have any right to say that to me.”

“He’s a fucking actor. Everyone’s after him, I heard he had been having as much fun as he could get these last couple of years.”

I ignored this last comment and said, “Whatever Olliver. You’re drunk and I can’t be bothered talking to you when you’re like this. I’ll see you at work.”

I hung up the phone and downed my drink. I was angry. How dare he get involved in something that was absolutely none of his business? I sat and thought about it. Yes, I was a fan and Ben was an actor. But he didn’t have to talk to me that night in the hotel bar in York. He didn’t have to get my number from Alex and he didn’t have to text me or ask me out. He could have left it alone but he chose to get back in touch with me once we were home.

He could have put his own satisfaction first, before leaving me alone tonight, but he hadn’t.

I gulped back a few tears as I thought about what Olliver had said, before remembering that I didn’t do that. I didn’t let boys make me cry.

I got up from the sofa, turning off all the lights, and went to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and let the water run on the back of my neck for a few minutes, remembering the feeling of Ben kissing me there. The fog of alcohol in my brain made me dizzy and I thought I should probably go to bed. I dried off and shrugged on and old t shirt and knickers. My feet were cold so I dug out a pair of thick socks and padded around my house, still stewing on Olliver’s behaviour.

Pulling the covers up over me, I turned out the light and took a last look at my phone. Ben had sent me a message while I had been in the shower.

*Next time, there will be licking.*

The feeling of tiredness left me, my head cleared and my heart started racing once again.

*Please* I replied, and put my phone down on the table. I shut my eyes, thinking that the delay in my response would mean a similar delay from Ben. But my phone buzzed again.

*Now*

What? I thought. How do I respond to that? I searched for something to say, to text back, when I heard a knock on the front door. Not loud, but slow and deliberate. I jumped out of bed and raced to the door.

When I opened it Ben was standing there.

I tilted my head to the side. “Mr Cumberbatch.” I said.

He didn’t say anything. He stared at me, pushing the door open and striding in. He held my gaze as he closed the door behind him, his face giving nothing away except that he was determined.

He narrowed his eyes and looked almost angry. “I shouldn’t have left.” He said, kissing me so hard I banged my head on the wall behind me. I couldn’t speak. “I let him…bother me.”

“Please, Ben. I meant it, about Olliver. It’s nothing. I told him to go…” I managed to say before he kissed me again, and this time I kissed him back.

“I don’t care about him.” He whispered in my ear. He grabbed at my bum, lifting me up, and I straddled my legs around his waist. He pushed me up against the wall and flexed his hips into me so I could feel he was already hard again. I looked down and at my feet and remembered that I was still wearing my thick socks and enormous t shirt, but I didn’t care. I shut my eyes and leant my head back on the wall as Ben bit my neck.

He held me up against the wall with his weight and I managed to pull my t shirt over my head and throw it down. His hands came up to my breasts and pawed at me, his thumbs running over my nipples as I let out a cry at the contact.

Suddenly, he stopped. He fell completely still and looked at me, into my eyes as I pushed a flustered hand up to my fringe so I could see him properly. I looked back at him and saw about a hundred different things going through his mind. He must have settled on one, though, because as I whispered “not here,” he put arms all the way around me and carried me up the stairs to the bedroom. He didn’t break eye contact at all until we reached the bedroom doorway and he stumbled, banging my head on the open door as he misjudged the space.

“Ow!” I said, although it hadn’t actually hurt very much. I started laughing, and he threw me onto the bed, giggling himself and apologising under his breath.

He kicked out of his Converse and his socks, which, I noticed, were a crazy pink pattern. It made me smile again as I lay there watching him. I moved to take off my own socks and he grabbed my hand before I reached them. “No,” he was smiling but I didn’t argue with him.

He got onto the bed next to me, on his knees. He had undone the button of his jeans but he was still dressed. I could see how turned on he was, though, and I put my hand out to feel him through the material of his clothes. I stopped smiling as his expression changed, his eyes shining again in that way they had in the pub. That felt like hours ago.

I rubbed at him through his jeans as he straddled me, on his knees, on the bed. He bent down and kissed me on the lips, gently at first, but as I continued to grind into him, his kisses became more distracted and he pulled away again in frustration. He placed his hands on either side of my shoulders and waited as I slowly unzipped his fly. Then he quickly tore his t shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. I pulled the top of his jeans down a little, enough to make him comfortable, and then brought my hand up to his face.

“Fuck me.” I said, and congratulated myself on my use of words!

“Oh, I’m going to,” he said with a smile. “But, not just yet.”

Once he had wriggled out of his trousers and pants, he focussed his attention back to me. I looked up at him and wondered how I had quite managed to get into this situation. Ben obviously could see I was thinking something along those lines because he brought his face up to my ear and whispered, “Don’t”.

I shook my head a little and didn’t give it another thought as he put his hand gently on my neck. His mouth moved down to my chest and then to my breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth and flicked at it with his tongue, his hand doing the same on the other side. I sighed and involuntarily opened my legs a little, relaxing my thighs which had been tensed up, waiting for the contact again.

His hands moved down further to my knickers and he slid them down, past my ridiculous socks and onto the floor with his clothes. Then he suddenly jumped up, releasing me completely and flashing me a grin I hadn’t seen him pull before. He ran his hands down the lengths of my legs and took off my socks, agonisingly slowly, purposely making me wait. Then he ran his hands all the way back up my legs, again teasing me with the delay.

One of his long fingers made contact, rubbing ever so gently at the spot he’d found in the kitchen. Then there were two and just as I began to enjoy the feeling, they were inside me, thrusting in and out rhythmically. His thumb took over on my clit and I worried I was going to fall apart too soon.

He stopped, and I felt his warm breath where his thumb had been. He licked, again, so slowly and only a few times, but with just enough pressure to bring me even closer to the edge. I gasped again as I felt it all disappear. What?!

I heard him rip open a condom and put it on quickly. His hitched breathing making me desperate for his touch again.

He came back up to my head and whispered, no, he was growling again: “Ready?”

“Yes.” I squeaked, and arched my hips up towards his body.

He moved into me in one swift thrust, kissing my nipple at the same time. I cried out and he stayed still for a moment, concentrating on flicking his tongue over my breast. Then, he rocked into me, building up the friction, each time pushing a little bit harder. His fingers returned to the space between our bodies and he rubbed me furiously, until I screamed out.

“Again, Anna, come for me again!” It was all I needed to hear and I came, crashing around him, pushing my arms up against the headboard. He waited for a couple of seconds before he slammed into me three, maybe four times and let out a deep noise from the back of his throat as he came inside me. His elbows were either side of my head and I found his hands and gripped tightly as we both shuddered, finding our breath, sweat dripping from his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)  
> If this seems at all familiar, it's because it's a repost under a new author name. Hopefully I'll finish it this time.


	10. Chapter 10

We woke a couple of hours later. I found Ben rooting around in my kitchen for something to eat. He had thrown on his jeans and he looked spectacular; bare chested, his hair all messed up and the hint of stubble on his chin. I actually pinched myself.

"Toast and Marmite?" I said when he looked at up at me from the fridge.

"Lovely." He said.

I made us toast and sat down at the kitchen table with him. Despite what had happened, Olliver was still on my mind and it annoyed me.

"I've known Olliver for a long time and this has never happened before. I don't know what his problem is." I tried to explain.

He shrugged. "People do that. Sometimes people feel threatened. He doesn’t know me. I'm not up for sleeping with just anyone who offers it, and, for some reason, they do offer it,” he smiled bashfully. “But, people believe what they want to, and they don't like someone, someone who’s perceived as being able to get anything they want, encroaching onto what they see as their territory, although I hate to use that term. "

The familiar blush crept up on my cheeks and I tried to ignore it.

"That's so cute." He said.

"What?"

"The way you get embarrassed. I noticed it when you fell over me in York and then again when you gave those dickheads a telling off in the bar. It's... just lovely." 

This made me flush even more.

"Ben?"

"Mmmm?" He had a mouthful of toast.

"Doesn't it bother you that I was a... fan? Before I... Fell over you." I thought I might be falling again, in a different sense of the word, but I put that out of my mind. I've actually only known him for four weeks, I told myself, even though I felt like it had been so much longer. For him it had only been four weeks.

"No." He thought for a bit. "I suppose I like that you are a fan. Of my work." He winked at me and I smiled. "And, I don't know, I don't very often do it, but I felt I had to see you again after York." He thought again. "You're not bonkers are you?"

I laughed. "Yep.”

"Well, that's ok then," he said. He stood and walked over to me, "All that licking. I should have known." He said and kissed me, in just his jeans, in my kitchen, tasting of Marmite and sweet tea.

***

He had to go and we said goodbye on my doorstep, him stooping to kiss me again. He had some work to do over the next couple of days, interviews and promotional stuff in various places, but he asked me to go to the next location for the filming of Shards of Glass in Whitby and I agreed. He told me to make sure I booked my own room this time.

When he had gone I slept deeply and woke up feeling like I might have dreamt the whole thing. Then I remembered that I had to go to work and face Olliver and I felt cross again.

***

"Come on, Anna-boo!" Olliver said when I asked to talk to him at work.

"Don't fucking call me that," I told him. "You were drunk and you were out of order. Why are you being such an arsehole?"

"Oh, just ignore me. I've no idea. I was drunk, as you keep reminding me."

"Stay out of it then. Please?"

"Yeah, Anna. Whatever you want." I knew he was just trying to get me to go away. So I did. If he wasn't going to tell me he was jealous I wasn't going to acknowledge it.

***

I made arrangements to get some more time off work for the next week and booked a hotel in Whitby for a couple of nights. I let Ben know, but I didn't mention it to Olliver. Alex and the girls thought it was the best thing they had ever heard, "You've been sleeping with Sherlock!" Alex grinned at me when we all met up on Saturday night.

"I'm not talking about it." I said. But I knew my smile had given me away; they knew things had moved on from the York trip.

"Olliver has been asking me lots of questions about you and Benedict, you know." Fran said. I wasn't surprised after his behaviour.

"It's a funny thing." I thought out loud, "He's never seemed to be all that bothered about me in that way. Aside from those couple of times. You know what he's like, he doesn't let anything stress him out, but there's something about my - whatever it is - with Ben that he doesn't seem able to handle." I explained. "I think I'm just going to have to let him and try and work through it."

"You have a fabulous time in Whitby!" Alex raised her glass of wine and we all cheered. 

***

A few days later I drove up to Whitby feeling that familiar mixture of excitement and nerves that I had felt before my previous meet-up with Ben. This time, though, I wondered how it would be. I couldn't escape the fact that we had crossed a line, however much I wished I'd waited a bit longer. And the fan/actor thing was still playing on my mind a little, although Ben had said it didn't mean as much to him. To him I was a girl he'd met in some amusing circumstances and he had seen something he wanted to pursue. I guess it was only because he was famous that I knew I fancied him, and it wasn't like I thought I knew everything about him before I met him. I was enjoying getting to know the little facets to his personality that you would never get to see in interviews.

I sang my heart out to all my favourite songs as I drove up the motorway and I wondered, like a teenager, what Ben would think of my terrible taste and complete inability to keep quiet. Maybe wait a bit before we find out, I thought.

When I arrived at my hotel I saw a few of the film crew I recognised from York and they smiled at me. I found my room, which was exquisite. Old paintings and furniture, with creaky floorboards and a four poster bed. I laughed to myself at how, yet again, this was managing to be so romantic, almost by accident.

Whitby was a romantic place. By the sea in North Yorkshire, it was a favourite with Dracula enthusiasts as some of Bram Stoker's gothic story was set there. And of course, the old ruined abbey which would be used in the Shards of Glass storyline, was amazingly atmospheric. I couldn't believe my luck at having somehow caught the attention of one Benedict Cumberbatch (had some amazing sex) and ending up with a few days in a picturesque surrounding to enjoy myself!

Ben was no-where to be found, probably busy with something he hadn't said no to, and I couldn't get him on his mobile. The reception appeared to be rubbish, as usual for remote seaside places. So I did a bit of gazing out the window, had a quick shower and unpacked a couple of things. I put on some music and I was singing at the top of my voice when there was a knock at the door.

Ben was standing there in his running clothes, hair all messed up, face flushed and shiny. He scooped me up and slammed the door behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

"I'm all hot and bothered."

"I can see that." His large hands were on my hips as he held me tightly to him, kissing my neck the way, it seemed, he liked to do.

"I should probably shower..."

"Probably."

"Don't know where there might be a shower, do you?"

"Ummm" He started guiding me to the bathroom of my room. "I've just had one actually. I'm clean." I said giggling.

"We both know that's not true."

Just as I was about to abandon trying to argue with him, his phone rang. "...Yeah, uh, hello." He said clearing his throat and releasing me. "Ok. Yep, no problem." He hung up. "Got to go!" He said with a flash of his eyes, which today looked gold. "But I will see you later. Don't get up to any... mischief. Ok?"

"Promise." I said and watched him leave as quickly as he'd come in, slamming the door again behind him.

***

I spent some time walking around Whitby, looking in gift shops and breathing in the wonderful sea air. I was a little bit worried that I'd come all this way just to hang around for Ben to have a spare 5 minutes here and there. I took some photographs of the beach and houses and sat looking out to sea for a bit. I could see the film crew up on the hill where the ruins were. I looked for Ben but couldn't make him out. The abbey looked magnificent in the late afternoon sunshine, although the wind was bracing, as usual for the coast.

I got a text from Ben. *This is taking ages. It's cold.* Then immediately after: *I'm sorry, what I meant to say was - I'm horny.*

I laughed out loud and yet again wondered how I was in this situation with this man who I'd known for just under 6 weeks. Who, it seemed, couldn't get enough of me. I was starting to believe Ben was being serious when he said he didn't sleep with girls who threw themselves at him. And I hadn't thrown myself at him. Actually, I kind of had.

*Sweaty, horny, cold. Are we inventing new names for the seven dwarves?* I sent back. It would give him something to do.

It didn't take long: *Naughty.* I might return from this trip exhausted, I thought.

*Too obvious. You forgot Kinky, Sweary and... Dominant.* Which, it seemed, he liked to be.

*Stop it. You will keep.* Now I was horny too, and it didn't seem like he would be available for another couple of hours.

I went back to the hotel and changed. I managed to sort out my severely windswept hair and improve my makeup slightly. I went down to the bar and ordered a drink, sitting down at a table on my own.

Olliver loomed next to me. I smiled up at him to be polite. "Alright?" He said. He looked over his shoulder. "I heard you were coming. Where's Benedict then? Got you waiting around for him has he?" He smirked and I realised how unattractive he'd become in his jealousy.

"Fuck off." I said it lightly but I meant it.

"No problem. Oh, Anna, I'd like you to meet Ruth. She's my... date, I brought her up here to stay too. Just like he's got you hanging his every word." He practically shouted the last bit. I looked behind him and there was a girl about our age, talking to some of the crew. I ignored his childishness and tried to be mature about it.

"Ok, that's great. Really great. I hope it works out for you."

"Yep. Thanks." He flounced off.

I had another drink. Olliver's words swam around my head and I felt confused. Was he right? Was I being a total doormat? I'd come up here to be with a guy who was extremely busy, who said he wanted to get to know me, but realistically what was actually going to happen? He had lots of business in America, he travelled all over the place, I knew that. Did he have someone in all his regular places that he met up with? I reminded myself that it was six weeks since we'd met in York and grown-ups didn't obsess about things like this. We'd only had sex once for crying out loud, although it was the most intense experience I'd ever had. Probably why I was having such strong feelings, I thought. Ah! Get it together Anna!

I had another drink and realised I was hungry. Starving in fact. And possibly a tiny bit drunk now.

I looked around and tried to work out whether there would be any food available in this hotel bar. It didn't look terribly promising. Olliver was standing with his hand on Ruth's bottom, but every so often glanced over towards me.

With the most impeccable timing, Benedict appeared at the table. I looked up at him and felt a wave of something - relief, I thought. He opened his mouth to say something but got called over by the director who was stood talking with Olliver. I looked down at my nearly empty glass and waited. I didn't even want to look over there to see what was going on. I could hear Ben doing his usual polite chatter, being incredibly interested in what people had to say, so genuinely wanting to be nice. Then he came back over to me and sat down. He didn't say anything, but leaned over and kissed my cheek, touching the back of my head gently with his hand.

He whispered in my ear, "Remember: the seven dwarves." A shot of desire pulsed between my legs, but before I could answer he was standing again.

"Another?" He pointed to my glass.

"Um, yeah, and then I'm going to need some food. I'm a bit drunk!" I giggled.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked at me. "Excellent, excellent."

He went to the bar and I saw Olliver sidle up to him. Oh for God's sake, I thought, leave us alone! He said something and they both turned around, although Ben smiled sweetly at me.

"What did he say?" I asked Ben when he returned to our table with two whiskys.

"He was being a fucking dickhead. Nevermind." He had that look, the one that said: don't argue with me, so I left it alone. We chatted for a bit about the day's shoot and my walks on the beach. I felt fuzzy headed and stopped worrying about my insecurities and Olliver's behaviour, concentrating on watching Ben as he talked and talked. His gorgeous eyes and his mouth; the lisp that came through when he was excited about something; I was getting more and more turned on.

We finished our drinks. I removed Ben's hand from my bum, where he had stealthily sneaked his arm while we had been talking. We managed to get out of the bar and up to my room without him being accosted by anyone.

"Aha! The bathroom." He said as we almost fell over the bed. "Get in there, Anna."

I walked in and sat down on the toilet seat while he ran the taps into the bath, humming to himself. The hot steamy air and all the alcohol started to conspire against me. I have to stay awake, I thought, I have to... we have to... but it was no good. I could feel myself fainting, or something. It didn't feel good whatever it was. I reached out towards Ben who was taking off his jacket and swirling the water with his hand.

"Ben, I don't feel very..."

"Shit! Anna." He leant right over and caught me just as I fell on top of him. I heard him chuckling a little bit as he stopped the running water and said "OK, it's OK. Let's just get you out of here, shall we?"

He carried me and put me on the bed. "How much did you have?" He asked me.

"Four... Five... Six, I can't..." I slurred.

"Right. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Drink that water." He gestured to a glass he'd left by the bed. He disappeared with his jacket and I shut my eyes.

I opened them again as Ben opened the door and came in carrying two white paper parcels smelling of vinegar. He handed me one and pulled over one of the small armchairs, sitting next to the bed. "These smell even better than you." I said, opening my fish and chips and inspecting them. He had made sure there was just the right amount of salt and vinegar and there was little squirt of ketchup over them as well. Heaven.

"Eat!" He commanded. And I did.


	12. Chapter 12

I ate my massive pile of fish and chips and sipped at the water Ben had got for me, along with a cold can of Coke. I lay back on the bed and rubbed my tummy, which was full. I tried, and failed, to stifle a burp. I looked over at Ben and he burst into laughter.

"Sorry." I groaned, covering my face with my hands and laughing out loud myself, bringing my knees up and curling into a ball on the bed.

"No, no." He said, putting the chip papers in the bin. "I can't tell you how fed up I get with girls who don't eat anything and act like they're china dolls. It's depressing. I think part of the reason I was so attracted to you was because of how normal you are." I pulled a face.

"Cheers."

"You know exactly what I mean." He jumped onto the bed next to me. "You're... you. You get embarrassed, your hair is constantly all over the place,” he brushed my fringe across my forehead. “You burp. You don't look where you're going." I turned over onto my side to face him. "You get stuck for words. You have terrible taste in music." I gasped.

"You heard that!" I squealed, covering my face again.

"I heard you singing too, and it was the best thing, because you didn't care what you sounded like."

"I dance too." I laughed. "Just not when I've had a double portion of fish and chips and too much to drink. Actually just the first bit. I obviously dance like a goddess when I've had too much to drink."

"How do you feel now?" He asked me, suddenly looking quite concerned. "Do you want some fresh air?"

"That bath might be nice?" He leapt off the bed and ran the bath again.

"Ben?" I shouted into the bathroom

"Yeah."

"What did Olliver say to you downstairs?"

"He was... trying to stir up trouble, I think. You don't want to know."

"Really?" Time to leave it, maybe.

He came back to the bed and pulled me up by my hands. "Come on you. Let's wash some of that grease away."

"You're greasy too."

"Yes I am, and that is why I will be bathing with you."

***

After we had sat in the bath together I realised I felt like I had known him for years. Not because I had read interviews (lots of interviews), but because he just seemed so natural with me. He wasn't bothered about showy stuff, being flash, although he loved attention and being ever so slightly mischievous. He cared about being a good person, doing what was right and valuing the small things in life. Bloody perfect, I thought. And because he knew I was drunk and tired, he didn't push me for sex, he just lay in the bath with me and talked to me about nonsense.

We bundled ourselves up in towels and lay on the bed in my room and I drifted off to sleep, his arm wrapped around my shoulders.

***

When I woke up, Ben had left. He had a full day of filming for Stained Glass and had to be up at the abbey early. There was a text waiting for me.

*Hope your head is OK this morning. X*

I replied: *Fine, I think. Not got out of bed yet. I might stay here all day.*

*Stay there. We have unfinished business young lady.*

I stretched out on the bed and dozed for a while. After a couple of hours though, I got up and showered, attempted to dry my hair into its blonde bob and added my eyeliner flicks. I threw on my skinny jeans and a black t-shirt and biker boots. I felt good. I felt... Sexy.

I sent a text to Ben to say I was going for a walk and set off to the sea front again. He replied about fifteen minutes later, *Where are you? I'm coming to find you.*

I told him he would find me at the far end of the sea front, at the opposite end from the abbey. I had sat down on the hill above the footpath to admire the sea, breathing in the fresh air to clear my head. The sea was quite calm and the view over to the abbey was stunning. It was delightfully quiet.

Ben came around the corner, scuffing his big boots in the sandy path. He sat down on the grass next to me with a huff.

"How is it?" I asked.

"Hmmm, not brilliant. I'm not very pleased with how things have gone today. I feel like something is wrong." He had a face like thunder. I knew he could be a little mercurial so I backed off, letting him smoke a cigarette in silence. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, hugging my knees. Ben sat there staring out to sea, and I realised how intimidating his face could be when he frowned. Fucking hot though.

"Can I help?" I said eventually. He turned and looked at me and his face softened. "Thank you," he said, eyes glinting, "I think you can." He leant over and put his hand on my knee, turning his body around towards me. He looked down at me, eyes flashing. I was beginning to understand what that meant.

"Here?" I whispered.

"Well, you didn't stay in the room like I told you to."

He nuzzled at my neck, dragging his lips across my collarbone. I shut my eyes as a wave of desire flooded through me.

"Ben, really? You're... STOP!" I shouted, gripping his shoulders. "We are not doing this here. You are so fucking famous at the moment, if you get caught you will never live it down!" I was laughing but I meant it. He was playful and passionate but I wasn't about to let him spoil his career by getting caught doing something in public, however much I wanted to. I stood up.

"Yes, yes. You're fucking right, I know." He squinted up at me and looked petulant. "We've got to though. It's fucking killing me." He looked down at his crotch and I could see he wasn't joking.

"Come on then! How long do you have?" I held out my hands and pulled him up to standing. He looked at his watch.

"No idea," he said. Then, "Half an hour, maybe."

We raced back to the hotel. I struggled to keep up and it reminded me of being in the museum in York as Ben held on to my hand, his long legs making short work of the higgledy-piggledy streets. He kept his head bowed down low to avoid being recognised.

This time we went to his room. He paused outside his door and kissed me passionately, then unlocked it and in one swift movement, pushed me onto the bed. Dominant Ben is here again, I thought.

He told me to take off my top and bra, and to hold on to one of the bedposts (his was also a four-poster). I did as he asked and gripped it with both hands. I kicked off my boots while he peeled off his jeans, his eyes never leaving me. He had that determined look he had had last time. This man did not do things by halves, I realised, and I could feel myself getting wetter by the second.

He stood, towering above me, looking down at me, his hands skimming my bare midriff. His erection was pushing out of his boxers and I couldn't help but look at it. I smiled as I met his eyes again, and he grinned back at me. He put his hands out to touch my breasts and shut his eyes briefly, his cock jerking slightly as he made contact with my nipples. I gave him a pleading look. Then he tore off my jeans and underwear with a couple of sweeps of his arms and grabbed my thighs in his enormous hands, pulling my legs apart.

"Fucking hell, Anna, you're so wet." He groaned. He removed his boxers and positioned himself above me, leaning on his hands. He brought his lips down to mine and flicked his tongue into my mouth. I responded by doing the same and grabbed at the back of his head, pulling at his hair slightly. "Ah!" He moaned, pulling away from the kiss and sliding his cock into me, slowly. I flexed my hips up to meet him and gasped as he pushed himself all the way in. He was still for a second, kissing my shoulder. Then we were suddenly lost. His thrusts were strong and forceful and rhythmic and he shut his eyes as he built up speed. I wrapped my legs around his waist, tilting my body up to get the contact I needed, and he responded by altering his angle, making sure his pelvis was flush against me.

"Ben!" I screamed out, and this time it appeared that I was - almost – his undoing, as he stopped still, panting. His hair was falling in front of his forehead in loose curls and he opened his eyes, fixed me with a look and kissed me again.

He started again, slowly and then faster, building it up again, until – what the fuck was that? His phone was ringing in his jeans.

He stopped. "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" he shouted, in the direction of the floor, where his jeans lay.

"Ignore it!" I panted. "Do it!"

He shook his head and turned back to me, his smile betraying his eyes, which were deadly serious. He thrust again, slamming into me and I wondered how much more I could take. Then the friction was too much and I let out a breathy sigh as I came just as he did, Ben crying out in what I thought was a combination of frustration, tension and release all at once.

He let go of my body and let his head rest on my chest for a minute, still panting, then looked up at me. "You're still holding the bedpost."

"I do what I'm told, sometimes." I pulled a mock sexy face and he laughed, grabbing my hands and bringing them down to my sides.

"That was... quite good." He said, rolling over to lie next to me, catching his breath.

"Your acting is going to be fucking amazing this afternoon." I said, and we both giggled like children.


	13. Chapter 13

That afternoon, Ben spent hours up at the abbey filming. I took lots more photographs and spent a while chatting to Alex on the phone. She wanted to know all about what we’d been up to, although she mostly wanted to know about Benedict. I gave her nothing except that I’d got a bit drunk – again! She wasn’t surprised and teased me about my complete inability to hold my drink. She had, to be fair, seen me in a few dire situations, which I wasn’t terribly proud of, but she was my best friend and had looked after me on many of these occasions. 

It started getting dark at around six and I decided to walk up to the abbey as I hadn’t heard anything from Ben. I thought about earlier, and wondered what the evening would have in store for us, Ben’s playfulness and slight unpredictability exciting me.

As I approached the ruins, I could see that there were only a few of the crew left, including Olliver, who was talking to someone. Ben didn’t appear to be there and I stopped on the grass in the centre of the abbey and squinted through the dusk at the magnificent stone structure all around me. I was about to turn and go back when I heard Olliver next to me.

“Hey,” he said. “Looking for your boyfriend?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“What is he then? If you’re so willing to come running around the country for him, or is he just FUCKING you?”

I started to walk away from him but he grabbed my arm. Fuck, I thought as I realised the people who had been here a minute ago seemed to have disappeared. I looked quickly around me, suddenly isolated and a little scared. Olliver looked and behaved like a stranger, he was so far from the funny, light-hearted guy I had been close to over the last few years.

“Anyway,” he continued. “He’s in a foul mood. Stormed off about half an hour ago. Something appears to have seriously pissed him off, what have you been up to?”

I thought about how fantastic things had been a few hours ago and was so confused I couldn’t answer him. I opened my mouth but yet again my words failed me and I couldn’t even think about what could possibly have annoyed Ben so much, let alone come up with a quick-witted response to Olliver.

“Oh, Anna, what are you doing?”

“Just leave me, us, alone.” I managed to spit at him. I was angry now, and so, by the look of him, was Olliver. He was still holding on to my arm and as I tried to pull it away, he grabbed my other hand.

“He will be no good for you. I should never have let you come on your little obsessed-fan jolly. You even managed to fuck that up. You don’t belong in his world!” He shouted at me, his breath hitting my face.

“Fuck you!” I shouted back, but his words had indeed hit a raw nerve as he verbalised exactly what I had been thinking the last few weeks. A tear ran down my face as I became more and more angry, with myself, with Olliver and with Ben for being so… perfect, delivering to me a fantasy better than I could ever have imagined.

My mind raced and I broke down a little, sobbing into my hands, which Olliver had finally let go of. The wind had picked up and blew my hair in front of my face. Olliver stood in front of me and kicked his feet around in the grass. I walked over to one of the ruined stone walls and leant heavily on it. I wiped my face with my sleeve and looked up at Olliver.

I heard my name. It was a familiar baritone voice, in clipped tones.

I found Ben through the darkness, heading towards me. He glared at Olliver, who looked over at me once and must have thought better of pushing things any further, because he started back down the hill to the town.

“You OK?” Ben said, searching in the dimming light to make eye contact.

“Um, yes. I’m OK.” I said.

He sighed heavily and took out a cigarette. He turned his back on me, away from the wind, to light it, took a long drag and released it.

“What happened?” He asked, continuing to smoke and not turning around to look at me.

“The same. He’s jealous and he said I didn’t belong in your world. He’s probably right.” I mumbled.

Ben laughed sarcastically. “So why are you even bothered what he thinks? You keep telling me there’s nothing going on and I believe you, but…”

“What?”

“Look. I want to get to know you Anna, and I think you feel the same. But I am busy, I have so much going on right now that I wonder if this is truly going to be worth it. He seems desperate for us to fail so maybe we should just leave it.”

“No! That’s not fair. You pursued me! I just wanted to catch a glimpse of my massive crush, you were the one who got my number, who fucking started being this perfect, amazing man who was charming and sensitive and made me laugh! Don’t you dare make this about me you fucking PRICK!” I shouted. 

The last thing I expected Ben to do next was to laugh. 

He turned around to me and blew away the smoke from the last of his cigarette. I could smell whisky as well.

His face had mellowed, there was no anger anymore. He looked down as he pound the cigarette end into the ground with the tip of his boot. The sea wind blew his hair and the curls on top looked wild.

“Someone has been tweeting about us.” He said quietly.

“Who?” I said, feeling a little bit sick.

“I hoped you might know,” he replied. “Whoever it is is keen for the world to know that I am now involved in a ‘love triangle’ with a crazy fan.”

I felt very sick. I knew how much he didn’t like intrusion into his personal life and that he stayed away from social media for that reason. I didn’t say anything.

“They also wanted to share that you had slept with Olliver. Twice.”

FUCK!


	14. Chapter 14

I looked at Ben. It was now dark enough that I couldn’t entirely make out his facial expression and I felt the blood rush to my head.

It was true, there was no point in denying it. I had slept with Olliver on a couple of occasions, but they had been years ago. We had been drunk and they had been uneventful, clumsy and distinctly unsatisfying. The opposite of how it had been with Benedict.

“Ben…” I started, but he interrupted.

“Don’t. It’s OK, really. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t really want to know and you don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s in your past. I just, I don’t know, I…” unfinished sentences again, only this time it was frustrating. I needed to know what was going on in his head.

“OK.” I said. But I wasn't sure if it really was OK, and I wanted to explain. I would have to leave it until later though, if he didn’t want to hear about it now. I grabbed hold of my hair with both hands to keep it from blowing in front of my face in the wind and looked down at Ben’s feet.

“I’m…sorry.” I blurted out with a sob. I wanted to apologise, for not telling him, or for having done it in the first place, I wasn’t sure which.

He moved closer to me and I could smell the strong tobacco and whisky on his breath. I wondered how many he'd had, I'd never seen him drunk and I felt a touch of intimidation at his aggression. “You shouldn’t do that.” He murmured, towering over me, his voice so deep and edgy I could barely hear him. I felt a rush of that familiar Cumberbatch-induced desire, compounded by his proximity and my fragile emotional state.

“Apologise,” he explained. “When you have nothing to apologise for, don’t be sorry.” He nuzzled at my neck and I felt confused. I thought about my past mistakes and compared them with the most incredible, raw experiences I had had with this man.

“I just, I want to explain.” I said, tipping my head back to give him easier access. I shut my eyes and suddenly couldn’t fight back the tears, which fell in lumpy blobs down the sides of my cheeks. I heaved as I let out another sob and Ben pulled back as he realised I was upset.

“Again,” he bent down so that his face was level with mine, staring at me earnestly now. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He kissed at my tears and I laughed then, through my crying. “Nothing,” he repeated.

He stood upright again, taking my tear stained face in his hands and bringing his lips down to meet mine. I opened my mouth as he kissed me; big, wet kisses fuelled by alcohol and annoyance and confusion. His hands moved down to my waist and held me tightly there while his kiss became harder and intense as he focussed his anger. Pulling me into him, his aggression moved down to my neck and he nuzzled into the neckline of my t shirt. I let out a moan as his hands moved up and underneath my t shirt. He grabbed hard at my breasts and his movements were on the verge of painful.

He nudged me backwards a few steps, so that I was leaning right up against the stone wall of the abbey, with the sea behind me. The wind was howling now and the roar of the sea was deafening, but I could only hear Benedict’s rough breath as he drove his hips into me, grinding his hardness against my tummy.

“We. Are. Doing. This.” He said between kisses. “Now.”

I nodded and undid my jeans, pulling them down along with my knickers, just enough to give him access.

He let go of me and we both fumbled with his own clothes, a mass of fingers all trying to undo a button and fly, grabbing at his shirt to move it out of the way. He glanced quickly around us, then took his erection in his hand and ripped open a condom packet with his teeth. He looked up at me as he rolled it on.

“Up,” he said. I put my hands on his broad shoulders and he lifted me by the waist so I could wrap my legs around him. He held me with one strong arm, taking my weight on his hips while he held his hard cock in his other hand, pulling at himself clumsily while I flexed my hips to get into position. He arched his back and thrust into me hard, taking my breath away.

This time, he didn’t give me any time to adjust to his size but that didn’t matter, I just wanted, needed, to feel him inside me. I recovered and took a deep breath, inhaling Ben’s scent. The rough stone wall I was leaning on grazed my back as he pound into me, and we both let out tiny gasps with each violent movement.

I grabbed the back of his head and pulled slightly at his hair. He responded by fucking me even harder, until he cried out as he came quickly inside me, each wave of his orgasm rocking his body into me, his head falling onto my shoulder. He sounded broken; his breath shallow and rasping.

We remained like that for a minute, before he pulled out of me, set me back on the ground and removed the condom, pulling up his trousers so that he was decent. Then he looked up at me and his face crumpled into the lop-sided smile, raising his arms in the air, gesturing to say, “What the fuck do I do with this now?”

I laughed too. “Here.” I said and handed him a tissue I’d had in my pocket.

“Thank you.” Ben said, wrapping it and placing it delicately into his pocket.

“Now, where are my manners?” He grinned at me and moved closer to me again, this time kissing me so tenderly I marvelled at the change in a man after an orgasm. He slid his hand down, and, using the heel of his hand to keep me pressed against the wall, he rubbed at my clit. He kept it rhythmic and even-pressured and kissed my lips like he was tasting something he wanted to commit to memory.

I came moments later, silently, intensely, as he worked his fingers on me and my hair blew wildly around us in the wind.

***

As we walked down the hill together in silence, I thought about what Ben had told me. The obvious conclusion to jump to was that it was Olliver tweeting about us. But that didn't really seem like his style. Not many other people knew about me and Olliver, though, so it couldn't be too hard to figure it out.

"What should we do… about the Twitter thing?" I asked Ben. I thought about how angry he had been.

"Not sure just yet," he answered, clearly thinking about it as well. We reached the bottom of the hill and headed back to the hotel in silence. "I've got some lines to go over." He said absently. He put his hand up to my face, kissed my cheek gently and I waited to make eye contact. I needed that connection, to know that I was OK, that he was OK, but it never came. He shuffled away with a brooding, thunderous face, hands in his pockets.


	15. Chapter 15

I sat in my room, my own anger building with every minute that passed. I thought about Olliver's hideous behaviour over the last few weeks and how I'd seen a side to him I'd never expected to see. He had been a prick, but I couldn't believe he would put his own career in jeopardy by broadcasting something like this on the Internet. He was trying to forge a career as a screenwriter and this production was a big fucking deal for him. Surely he could see that doing something like that would be severely damaging?

I didn't even know what was on Twitter, I realised. I looked at my phone, opened the Twitter app, and then dropped my phone again. What's the point in looking, I thought, it's just going to make you even more cross and it's obviously an anonymous account. Probably been taken down by now.

I picked up the phone again and started to type a message to Ben. *Hi* I deleted it.  
*You OK?* I deleted that one too.  
*I'm remembering the 7 dw...* No! I got rid of that one as well and threw my phone on the bed in frustration. 

I watched some TV, curled up on the bed, every so often thinking about our fucking at the abbey. There was no other word for it. Ben had been angry, he'd been rough with me. It had been a completely animal experience like I'd never known before. Desperate. I knew he liked to be in control, he'd already shown me that, but I wondered what had driven him to risk his own career by letting himself get into that situation in public. 

I gulped as a horrible thought hit me: what if someone had seen us up there? Olliver knew we were there, he could easily have seen, and if it was him tweeting these things then...? I felt sick. 

I changed the channel and tried to clear my mind. I felt exhausted all of a sudden, the salty sea air and the aftermath of mine and Ben's activities making me feel drowsy. I shut my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***  
I was woken up by soft knocking on the door. 

"Anna?" It was Ben. 

"Mmmmph!" I rubbed my eyes and sat up, leaning on my hands. I had a sore back and neck from lying in the foetal position on the bed and my hair was a salty, sleepy mess. I didn't really care. I looked at the time. It was 1.15am.

"Just a minute," I got off the bed and padded to the door. 

"I'm sorry it's so late," he looked tired, but his voice was smooth, a low rumble, like he had absorbed the noise of the sea. "Can I come in?" 

"Um, yeah." I said and smiled, although I didn't much feel like it. 

I held the door open for him and turned off the TV which had been playing to itself while I slept. I crawled back on to the bed, and as I did I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My eyeliner wasn't so much flicks as raindrops running down a window now. Damn it! Ben saw the look on my face and laughed, a small, confused laugh, crumpling his eyebrows at me. 

I shrugged my shoulders and curled up on the bed again.

Ben stood, looking at me, blinking. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. Great, I thought. This is over before it's begun.

 

I did a quick recap of the mind-blowing encounters we'd had so far and thought I should probably just be grateful for the experience, or something. Fuck that, my heart shouted loudly over my head, silencing my reasoning with a huge stomach lurch. This was the most amazing thing that had happened to me, not because it was with Benedict Cumberbatch, but because it was with a man who made me feel absolutely perfect. He made me feel special, clever, sexy, funny, all just by being myself, and he seemed to enjoy it too. 

"Anna..." He started.

I looked over at him and then shut my eyes to prepare for him letting me down gently.

"This has been great, don't you think? I've had such fun with you," he paused for a moment, then, "and despite what the fucking Internet thinks, I don't jump into relationships. It takes a while to get to know someone, Anna, and it's so difficult to do that when there's so much interest in my life. Almost impossible. You know, I have to find alternative exits to get out of places, sometimes fight through crowds to buy a pint of milk. It can be awful and I hate to do that to someone else, especially when you have no experience of being in the spotlight. And no interest in it either." He chuckled to himself.

I opened my eyes and fought an urge to argue with him. I was cross. 

He continued. "...And I have to really focus on my work, I've got so much on at the moment, including hundreds of trips to America, all these things that keep coming up, that I want to do. It's going to be tough." 

I was really starting to get annoyed at his verbosity, just get to the fucking point, you're not Hugh Grant, I screamed inside. 

"I just wanted to keep you from having to deal with the pressure so soon." He said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and putting his hand on my ankle, rubbing his thumb absently across my foot. He looked at the door. "I didn't want to be in this situation where we had to start sneaking around. It makes things so much harder.” He paused, staring at the door, and my head felt like it was going to explode. “…But I guess we're here now and we'd better deal with it like adults." 

WHAT?!

I screwed my eyes shut and opened them again, focusing on the back of his head, and pulling myself together enough to lean up on my elbow. 

He turned around when he heard me move. "Listen, I'm sorry for being an arse earlier. I hope you understand that I wasn't angry with you, it was the whole shitty situation. Being caught out by fucking Twitter - again. It doesn't matter who is doing it. At least, it doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that you don't have to suffer from the effects of the scrutiny into my life, just because of me, just because I... well, because I want to keep seeing you. Properly. Am I…does that make sense, at all?"

He looked at me and his eyes were so vulnerable. He'd been totally honest with me and it was obviously something he had wanted to keep in, at least for a little while longer. He was angry because he’s been forced into a situation, he wasn’t in complete control and it made him feel exposed. I understood that now. I felt selfish for making it about myself.

"You never completely make sense to me." I threw him a lopsided smile and sat up so that I was next to him on the edge of the bed. 

He held out his hand and I took it, his long fingers wrapping around mine. 

"But, I'm sure I can find a way to cope. I'll try not to let it bother me." I shrugged and flicked my fringe away from my face. 

"OK," Ben said. "It will bother you. At some point or another, it will. But we’ll have to address that when it happens and, in the mean time..." He held out his other hand for me to take, which I did. "Just promise me something?"

I looked at him, into his almond eyes. "Promise me you won't change?" He said, pulling me into a hug.

"Promise." I replied. 

We lay on the bed, fully clothed. I curled my legs up again and was asleep almost before my head touched the pillow. Ben curled himself around me, arms across my chest, and held me tightly all night.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi... If anyone is still reading this and hasn't read it before... I'm going to continue updating for a bit.   
> Hope you like it.

I curled my hand around the back of Ben’s neck as he kissed me, the graze on my back throbbing where the rough stone caught against my bare, clammy skin. Birds were singing. The wind hit my face, blowing Ben’s hair into my eyes, so I kept them tightly shut. I could hear the sea, a constant rumble, but it was suddenly distant, blocked out by, what? A window, a wall? The darkness gave way to an orange glow as I slipped into consciousness. The feeling returned to my body gradually and I wriggled my toes, inside my socks, against the bed sheets, which, I realised, I was still lying on top of. 

Ben was wrapped around me, his leg lying over my ankles and his arm draped over my waist. The protectiveness of this gesture was not lost on me and I started to remember what had happened last night. My initial wave of depression was replaced with a warm feeling as his last words to me rang in my ears. I struggled to move my head and Ben’s curls tickled my cheek. His breath was soft against my neck and he barely moved as he placed a tiny kiss against my shoulder. 

I froze for a second, as a stray thought hit me.

Putting it aside, I managed to lift his arm and slide away, off the bed. I turned as I padded towards the bathroom and took in the sight of him, fast asleep, fully clothed. The serenity of his face contrasting with his hair, which looked like a wrung-out mop. He still had his shoes on. 

I laughed and went into the bathroom.

***

Ben really did have lines to rehearse and he left me to go back to his room. I nipped across the street to grab a couple of croissants and dropped one in for him on my way back to my own room to pack.

As I got back to my room I dialled Alex’s number. I wasn’t sure what to say to her.

“Hi.” I started.

“Hello, Mrs Cumberbatch. How is all the sex?”

“Its… stop it.” You’re going to have to get to the point, I thought. “Have you been on Twitter recently?”

“Of course I’ve been on Twitter, what else would I be doing with my time while you’re away being ravished by a movie star? Oh… yeah, the Olliver stuff. Well, its not untrue is it, so I suppose you’ll have to come clean.”

“Alex, you haven’t…?” I started, but she interrupted.

“What?! I haven’t been tweeting anonymously about my best friend, trying to stir up trouble because I’m insanely jealous and don’t have my own life to get on with?”

“Um,” this was coming out wrong, well, it wasn’t coming out at all, but she knew why I was ringing.

“Of course I fucking haven’t, Anna. Don’t do this already! Don’t become a dick because you’re fucking a celebrity and you can’t cope with people wanting to know about your life. I imagine there’ll be worse than this to come.” She stopped shouting at me and I heard her swallow and sigh. “I’m many things Anna; I’m mean, I find this all incredibly funny and I’ll kill him if he breaks your fucking heart. But, I’m not jealous and neither am I vindictive enough to spill your dirty little secrets out on the web. You do know that, right?”

Anna, you’re such an idiot, what did Ben say to you last night? I screamed internally at myself. He asked you not to change, and what’s the first thing you’ve done? Accuse your best friend of trying to sabotage your relationship.

“Oh. Alex.” I stopped my voice from breaking down into tears. I was done with crying about this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I… I just, there’s not many other people who know, and I just don’t think Olliver has done this.”

“It’s alright,” she said quietly. “You’re just going bat-shit crazy over a guy, we’ve all been there. It’s my job to keep your feet on the ground, remember.” Thank god for Alex, I thought. “Now, talk me through what’s happened while you’ve been up there, and we’ll figure this out.”

I told her, leaving out the smutty details, and she seemed none the wiser. “You can either try talking to Olliver again, or walk away from it and hope it goes away. The ‘love triangle’ part is incredibly unfortunate, I doubt Benedict wants that hanging around, but, people will forget and move on to something else quickly. Probably what you’re wearing…” I laughed, but she was right and it made me feel a little bit sick. 

There was a knock at the door. I apologised again to Alex and she told me again that it didn’t matter, then we said goodbye and I went to open the door, expecting to see Benedict.

I saw Olliver. He smiled sheepishly at me. “Can I… talk to you?” he asked. His posture and expression were like the old Olliver I knew, the one who had been my friend, my silly flirting opportunity and partner in after-work drinks.

I opened the door fully and stepped back to allow him in. I stood by the door and let it close. Olliver sat on the bed.

He cleared his throat and began speaking slowly and with an honesty I’d never, ever seen from him before.

“I’m really sorry, Anna. I owe you an apology, for many things, including my behaviour. I’ve been, I don’t know, not so much jealous as just pissed off. Really pissed off. With you, with Benedict.” I listened to him talk and relief washed over me. “This was MY thing. My break. You stole it from me, and I couldn’t cope with seeing you getting what you wanted as well. This is a big deal. I’m getting my script made and it could be the start of something else, the BBC has asked me to do more work for them. But you went and started falling in love, Anna. And, I knew you were never going to fall in love with me, and that’s OK. I know that we aren’t in love.” Was I? Was I falling in love? Don’t think about that yet, just listen to him.

“And he looks like he’s pretty into you too, you know.” He went quiet and looked at the floor.

“It wasn’t me,” he said, and I knew he was referring to the tweets.

“I know, Olliver,” I said. “I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t do that. Although, you’ve been… different recently,” I added.

“It was Ruth,” he said quickly. “I found out last night after I came back here. I’ve known her for a while and I must have told her about us ages ago, way before I asked her out. I’m… sorry she did that.”

“Wow. She looked quite normal, as well. What a bitch!” I said.

“I think she saw an opportunity for causing a scandal, and I think she was jealous of me and you having… you know?” I nodded at his words, which seemed to make some sense. “I’ve told her to go home, and I’ve asked her to stop that nonsense.” He stood up to leave. “Good luck with him, Anna. He seems to be a good one; didn’t kick off the other night in the bar when I told him I’d slept with you, although he did seem a bit annoyed for a minute there. How... gracious.” Up until that point he had been all sweetness, but he spat the word ‘gracious’ a little too viciously for my liking. I ignored it; the important thing was he was apologising for all this and I tried to absorb what he was saying and accept it. “I’ll speak to you soon,” he finished, leaving abruptly before I could say anything else.

I had to sit down quickly before I fell down. The relief was intoxicating and it felt like clouds were clearing from my head, finally. Would I be able to enjoy this, this – relationship – with Ben, put aside my insecurities and ignore the people trying to meddle? I thought about Olliver’s words. So that was what he had said to Ben in the bar. Ben had known about it for a day before it had appeared on Twitter and he said nothing. It could explain his changeable mood, although I got the feeling he could be like that anyway. 

I thought about Olliver saying I was falling in love and I realised the truth. It frightened and excited me at the same time and I told myself to calm down and behave like a grown up instead of a giddy child.

I packed up my small case and picked up my phone again. I called Ben. 

He didn’t answer.


	17. Chapter 17

I called Ben again and left a message, saying I was all packed and ready to leave. I heard nothing. I checked out of my room and left my bags in my car. I wished I’d booked an extra night, but my funds couldn’t have managed it.

I was starting to wonder where Ben was; I knew there wasn’t any more filming until late this afternoon and I wanted to talk to him about Olliver’s revelation (about Twitter). I was trying hard not to think about the fact that I was falling for a man who, I was realising, couldn’t put his bins out without drawing press attention.

It scared me, but I was addicted to being with him, my obsession with the imaginary Benedict Cumberbatch of the Internet was now an obsession with being around him in person. Breathing in his smell, listening to him talking utter drivel or thoughtful analysis in equal measures, listening for his incredibly sexy lisp when he’d had too much to drink or got over excited.

And he made me feel amazing too. He had a look that was just for me. One that was different from the one he gave to fans when he was being polite, it was a knowing look, an intensity in his eyes and a slight curve of his mouth as he watched me talk. He listened to what I said and thought carefully about his response. He could read my face, better even than Alex could, his eyes seeking out what was in my head and letting me know he understood. It felt like we were already a team.

But right now I was a little worried about why he wasn’t texting me back. I was just starting out to walk along the beach when I bumped into a crew member, a camera operator, I think. She said hello and smiled at me. I asked her if she knew where Ben was and she said she had heard someone mention that he was going to head up to a good surf beach further along the coast, before filming the final scenes for Stained Glass this afternoon. I thanked her for letting me know and she gave me a lovely smile. It seemed word was getting around and I wasn’t invisible anymore.

So, Ben had gone surfing the cold North Sea in March. He hadn’t let me know, but then, why would he? Don’t start thinking like a girlfriend, Anna, at least not yet. But I was. I wasn’t annoyed; it was Ben all over, he seemed to thrive on spontaneity but he didn’t often get the chance to drop everything and go off to do something exciting. 

I pottered around the shops in Whitby and picked up some tat for my friends at home. Then I decided I would go back to the car and drive up to the beach where Ben was, surprise him. I picked up two takeaway coffees to warm him up and placed them carefully in the drinks holders in my little car. The sun was attempting to come out from behind a cloud and the wind appeared to be dropping. Ben’s surfing trip might be cut short anyway, I thought.

I pulled in to the tiny car park next to the beach and was relieved to see Ben’s bike there. I stood next to my car and looked out to sea, scanning the beach for people. There were a few surfers out there and people on the sand, and there was no way I could make out which one might be Ben from up here. I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up the bottoms of my skinny jeans, which wasn’t very far, and started down the steep sandy path through the beach grass.

I shielded my eyes from the sun overhead and squinted, looking for Benedict. I could see a couple of surfers at the opposite end of the beach but I was fairly sure he had come alone. I sat down on the sand and took a few deep breaths. The sea air was almost as addictive as Ben, I thought, and smiled to myself. The sun was shining brightly now and the warmth of it on my face felt like a revelation after a long winter.

I was just about to close my eyes and drift into a little daydream about Ben’s lips when I realised someone was waving their arms frantically at me from the sea at the far left hand side of the beach. I stood up and chuckled to myself at the sight of Ben, hair wet and plastered to his head, bobbing around on a surfboard. He had a huge grin on his face and he looked childlike, clearly having lots of fun.

He paddled closer to the shore and strode out of the water, jamming his surfboard into the sand like a pro. The sight of him in a wetsuit made me feel a bit weak so I waited for him to approach me and then sat again. He stood in front of me, dripping cold water all over my bare feet. It felt lovely.

"Good morning... Afternoon... What time is it anyway?" he drawled. He sounded hoarse, just a touch out of breath and it was incredibly sexy. 

"Just after 12." I said. "How was the water?"

"Gorgeous!" he lisped. "You should come in!" he said as he bent down and leant over my legs to kiss my cheek.

"Thanks for that," I said, grinning, as I looked at the drip marks on my jeans and t shirt that he had deposited. "And I have no wetsuit or swimming costume, so, I don't think so."

"Aw. You don't need one!" This was bouncing, excitable puppy dog Ben, pumped full of adrenaline and invigorated by the cool sea.

I laughed at him. He sat down next to me, and took a deep breath. “Will you stay another night?” he asked me, staring out towards the sea. I looked at him, in profile, his hair still dripping wet but starting to spring back into those wonderful curls. I thought that I should probably take myself away from this, the whole situation with Olliver, Ruth and her stupid tweeting, get a bit of space and time to think about things. But then Ben turned and looked at me and fixed me with those eyes you could dive into and a half smile so goofy that all my resolve disappeared in an instant. 

“I can… I mean, I don’t have to be back at work until Monday, so I suppose…”

“If you’d rather not it’s OK.” Always polite, Benedict.

“No, I’d love to, it’s just, I’ve checked out of my room, so…”

“You’ll need somewhere to. Sleep,” he swallowed hard.

“Yeah.” My voice cracked slightly at the thought.

“Well then!” he shouted, suddenly jumping up and reaching his arm around to the back of his neck and grabbing at the zip on his wetsuit. “I happen to know someone who has a bed!” he unzipped his suit and shrugged out of it, skimming it down his legs and tugging his feet out of it. He did a funny little dance as he was extracting himself and I was willing him to fall over. Of course, someone as graceful as Ben would never lose his balance over a wetsuit and he kicked it away from him across the sand as he held his arms out to me. I was greatly amused by his swimming shorts which were a crazy green and blue pattern with crabs on, the kind you might buy for a 5 year old, and I felt a sharp twinge in my stomach as I looked up at him.

I took his hands and he pulled me up to standing. He wrapped his hands around my head, catching all the stray strands of hair that were escaping in the breeze, and gave me the widest grin I’d ever seen from him. He tilted his head while he looked at me, into my soul, it felt like. “Will you share it with me?” he said, and before I could even answer, he covered my lips with his and locked me into a breath-taking kiss that made my legs buckle slightly. Holding me up, he giggled as he moved his mouth on mine, exploring me with his tongue in tiny but deliberate flickers. I briefly wondered how much practice it must have taken to be this good at kissing, but removed that thought from my mind, just as he pulled away from me.

“Right, that’s settled.” He instructed me. And quick as a flash he was bending down, grabbing at my ankles while his other gripped around my back and I was completely in his arms. I felt like a helpless princess being rescued from something, although I didn’t know what.

I quickly realised, of course, that I was far from being rescued and I was about to be dropped into the freezing cold sea, in the middle of March, off the coast of Whitby!

“Noooooo!” I shouted, right into Ben’s ear, which was next to my face. I held his shoulders tightly with both hands and refused to let go, so he changed tack, throwing me in to the water, himself along with me. We both hit the grainy sand and as he let go of me, I kicked out, trying to find my bearings and get a purchase to get back up again. The water was so cold, so brain shatteringly cold that I couldn’t even make a sound, let alone scream out. 

The bottoms of my feet found the sand and my hands got a grip and managed to hold my body still. And then I realised I was in about 4 inches of water, and I laughed. Huge, cold-shocked, slightly panicked waves of giggles washed over me in synch with every wave that lapped over my soaked clothes. I located Ben next to me and he was laughing too, that childlike, carefree spirit showing through, even though he looked slightly apologetic.

His eyes moved suddenly, away from me, and looked past me onto the beach, his laugh fading and his beautiful smile dropping away from his face like he’d seen a ghost.

“Ben, what…” I managed to say, turning my head to the direction his eyes were following, in time to see a female form running away from the beach, kicking a spray of sand behind her in her haste.

Ben struggled against the oncoming waves but managed to stand up and shouted, to me, or no-one in particular, “SHE’S GOT MY CLOTHES!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone who is still reading this story after such a long gap! Thank you so much for reading.   
> Just to clarify, and I realise I was asked this ages and ages ago; this is a re-post of a story I had previously on AO3 under a different username. Some small details have been changed but it is the same story.   
> If you're interested in porn without plot, feel free to check out user Keystoffees because that's me as well!   
> Thanks again for reading x

Hey! Stop!” he shouted again, trying to run against the pull of the tide on his feet.

I scrambled around and managed to stand up, feeling like I was 30 seconds behind him in my uptake of the situation. And then my eyes focussed on Ruth as she made it up the sandy path to the car park, carrying a pile of clothes in her arms. I staggered out of the water and followed Ben to where he was standing, staring up at the hill.

He turned to me. “She’s got my fucking clothes!”

“I know, Ben, I know.” Was all I could respond before I was laughing again. I couldn’t stop laughing. Ben looked hurt, then really pissed off. He stormed off, running towards the path to follow Ruth, while I collapsed onto the sand. I didn’t care that my soaking wet clothes were now covered in the murky sand and that it was clinging to my damp hair, which now resembled seaweed.

I kicked my feet in the sand as I could hear Ben, still shouting “Hey!” at Ruth.

A minute later, I heard him huffing back towards me across the beach and the sound of an engine starting. “She hasn’t taken your bike?” I asked him between bursts of giggles, which I was attempting to stop.

“Fucking hope not. Argh!” he threw himself down into the sand next to me with a huge sigh. 

I composed myself. “God. Sorry.” I said, putting my hand on his knee. His skin felt cold now, underneath the caked sand on his smooth leg.

He stared at my hand for ages. His head was bent so low I couldn’t see his face, not even his eyebrows, to see just how cross he was.

Eventually he looked up and I saw that the anger had disappeared from his eyes. He begrudgingly smiled back at me and I immediately wanted to hug him, give him a huge bear hug and warm him up. I got onto my knees and shifted through the sand so that I was between his legs and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He rested his head on my own shoulder and I held him tightly against the wind, which was picking up again. 

“She’s taken my clothes!” he whined into my neck.

“I know.” I tried to sound reassuring but I think I still sounded like I was laughing at him. "I came here to tell you that she was the Tweeter! That silly woman had been tweeting about us and all the Olliver stuff. She's clearly got a few problems." I stifled another giggle and hoped I wasn't missing a really serious point to this. She was a bit unhinged and was getting her own back on us, for something.

He hummed to himself, in acknowledgement of what I'd said and nuzzled into my neck. I felt him take a deep breath. This time he was smelling me! I marvelled at how far we had come, as he began to kiss my neck gently. I was so close to him I could feel his cock against my legs, starting to twitch ever so slightly as his kisses became more pronounced on my neck.

But the wind was getting the better of me, and him too, I realised, as I started shivering, suddenly aware of my soaking wet clothes clinging to my body, and Ben’s complete lack of clothes. I could see goosebumps beginning to form on his chest and thought that us sitting on this beach in the wind wasn’t going to help our situation. I suddenly remembered the fact I had brought the car, and that there were coffees up there, although they were probably cold by now.

"Ben." I whispered into his salty curls.

"Come on. The car's up in the car park, we have to go and get warm."

"Mmmm. Yeah... OK." He took a second but the sense in what I was saying obviously filtered to his brain and he pulled back, holding my shoulders and looking at me. 

We jumped up onto our feet, Ben ran over to grab his motorbike helmet, which Ruth had left on the sand, and we scrambled up the hill.

She hadn't taken the bike, but there was no way Ben could ride it home in just his swimming shorts. I fished my car keys out of my pocket and had a brief moment of panic when I realised they'd been in the sea with me. But they worked and I unlocked the car and slid into the backseat, Ben joining me from the passenger side. He looked really cold now, his lips were pale and his eyes were shining a bright blue against his washed out face.

"Oh, here." I said, leaning through to reach the coffees, handing him one and sitting back down on the seat with my hands wrapped around my cup. It was just warm enough to be worth drinking.

We sat in silence as the sun shone down and heated the inside of the car. Ben began to look much better and as I started to see the funny side again, so did he.

"You should take those off, you know." He said, gesturing at my jeans.

I raised an eyebrow at him and said, "Are you mad? There's no way I'll get these off now! They'll shrink onto my legs and I'll have to wear them forever. Or you'll have to cut me out of them."

He chuckled. "Mmmm. I think we can do it..." He ran his hand up my thigh and hooked two fingers into a belt loop.

"Wait!" I wriggled free and got back out of the car, opening the boot and getting my case out. I unzipped it and rummaged through for something to put on. Tights and a skirt didn't seem the easiest thing to manoeuvre into in public so I settled on joggers and a t shirt. I found my big sleeping t shirt and threw it into the car at Ben.

"Isn't it lucky I didn't bring silky nighties?!" I laughed as he held it up in front of him and tried to work out if it would fit him. "You'd have looked ridiculous in a negligee."

He raised an eyebrow at me and I had a fantastic mental image that I vowed to revisit at some point.

I got back into the car and attempted to slide my wet jeans down over my legs. It was not easy. Ben took hold of my feet and brushed sand off them gently. Taking hold of the hem of my jeans he pulled slowly but firmly and I wriggled my bottom. The look of extreme concentration on his face as he pulled them off me was adorable.

I quickly whipped off my underwear too, much to Ben's obvious glee, and I gave him a disapproving look as I shimmied into the jogging bottoms and t shirt.

I huffed and sat down, feeling exhausted by the effort. I tried to run my fingers through my knotted hair and quickly regretted the idea. "Urgh," I said. Ben grinned at me.

"You have never looked sexier, Anna." He said. I threw him a look and thought that actually, neither had he.

The back of my car was already liberally sprinkled with sand, and I shook some more off my hands and ankles. My skin felt delightfully soft, even if the rest of me felt a mess. He trailed his finger up under my t shirt, hitching it right up as he did so, and twitching his lips into a tiny smile as my bare nipple appeared. I grinned back at him. His thumb moved delicately over my nipple and it responded by immediately hardening under his touch. I glanced quickly around and shifted down so I was lower in my seat, almost under the window.

He leant over, his hand still on my breast, and pushed his weight on top of me. There was so little room the back of the car that it was impossible not to squash me and I gasped and laughed at the same time until he silenced me with a gentle kiss.

Coffee, salt and the grit of left over sand all combined in our mouths as we entwined our tongues together like teenagers. Every kiss with Ben was slightly different from the last and it made me hot with anticipation at which Ben I was going to experience.

As I squirmed underneath his body, I could feel his arousal and I tried to open my legs a bit, although I was more or less trapped by the seat in front. Ben let out a soft moan as my thigh made contact with his growing erection, which was not being very well contained by the blue and green crabs of his swim shorts.

And... There was my phone ringing. It made us both jump and Ben banged his head on the roof of the car as he sprang away from me. He rubbed at it as he sat back down, giving me room to reach through to the glove box and locate the offending technology. He gave me a playful slap right on my bottom before I could sit down.

"Hi Alex, what's up?" I said, shooting a frown at Ben.

"Er, have you checked Twitter again?" I groaned inside and out as I heard her words.

"No... Why?"

"You should check. Looks like another account has appeared and this time there's a photo. You might both need to get something done about it."

I swallowed hard and prepared to explain this latest news to Ben.


	19. Chapter 19

I told Ben exactly what Alex had said to me. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, rubbing the remaining sand into his skin roughly. 

"I'm going to look." I said and loaded up Twitter on my phone.

As I searched through the #benedictcumberbatch Tweets, Ben rested his head gently on my shoulder and sighed hard, a resigned expression of annoyance. After a couple of minutes I found what Alex had seen. It had only been up for about fifteen minutes, but it was by an account called ‘Draculascursive’. It read:

‘Benedict’s mad fan throws herself into the sea crying for his attention #benedictcumberbatch’ and there was a photo attached. It had been retweeted a couple of hundred times. 

It had been taken moments ago, presumably by Ruth, at the exact point Ben had thrown me into the sea. The photo was a mass of water, arms and legs and it did look a more sinister than the incident had been in reality. It would have been amusing if it wasn't so annoying.

Ben just huffed and wriggled under my t shirt which was far too tight across his chest. He didn’t seem that fussed about it. I casually scrolled down through the replies and retweets and I realised then why we should probably be concerned. There were some simple retweets with ‘lol’ or similar. But then I saw a few that were really quite nasty. Some were saying that Ben shouldn’t be dating a fan, not one who was clearly bad for him, others being really quite insulting towards me. I flushed red and cancelled out of Twitter.

“Oh, god, Ben. I’m causing a problem already. Your fans seem to be really quite upset about me.” I said in a quiet voice.

“Ignore it, we'll get it taken down,” he said, looking around the car for any passers by and quickly jumping out of the door and plonking himself onto the passenger seat, handing me his helmet.

“I don’t understand it though, your fans are usually lovely. They all want you to fall… I mean, meet someone who… Um, they want you to be happy.” I said.

“The vast majority of them, yes, they do.” He smiled. “But, there’s always a small number who don’t take kindly to me dating. Anyone. Really, don't worry about it. I'll get it sorted and with a bit of luck she'll go away and leave us in peace.” He turned and looked at me, ruffling his hair, which was obviously starting to bother him. “Come, shall we get back to my room, I need to sort things out, get ready for shooting, get showered.” I nodded. “Are you OK?” he asked me.

I nodded again and got out of the rear of the car and into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. As I pulled out of the car park I started to wonder how I was actually going to handle the reality of this. I glanced over at Ben, who was frowning at the road. I looked him up and down, swim shorts, my bed shirt, wild curls drying in a frizz, and I knew that I was going to try damn hard to handle it.

***  
We arrived back at the hotel and I dropped Ben as near as I could, handing him a spare pair of my sunglasses before he made a run for it. Then I parked the car nearby and walked quickly back, barefoot, carrying my suitcase. The ladies on the reception desk nodded in greeting to me, looking a little surprised to see me back again, a couple of hours after I had checked out, and no doubt laughing at me as soon as I swept past them all sandy. I ran up the hotel stairs taking care not to drop too much sand on the carpet, and knocked quickly on Ben’s door.

He opened it absently, still in his shorts and my t shirt and I realised he was talking on his phone to his assistant, who had stayed in London while he had been in Whitby. It sounded like she had already reported the new Twitter account and had the photo taken down, and Ben sounded pleased. He talked briefly with her about his schedule, telling her that he would be busy tonight and would be returning to London tomorrow. He asked about his free time the following week and told her to keep an evening aside, winking at me while he spoke.

“Yes, no, its fine,” he gestured to me towards a pile of clothes on the floor. “They were dumped outside my room, so… no, nothing missing. Yes, I’m fine. I’ll speak to you later. Thanks.” He put the phone down and grinned at me.

“She just brought them back?” I asked him as he put his phone down on the desk and his hands on my shoulders.

“Yup.” He said, kissing my neck.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Is it always this exciting being with you Cumberbatch?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” He did that thing, with his lips, dragging them up and down my neck agonisingly slowly, as his fingers sought out the hem of my t shirt. He used his grip on the material to pull me closer to him, then lifted the shirt up, moving his head away briefly to allow him to pull it over my head and arms. He threw it on the floor and bent his legs slightly as he stooped to continue his attention on my neck.

“Shower?” he mumbled into my sensitive skin.

“Mmmm.” I grinned and hooked my hands around the top of his shorts. He stopped his movements and stood still as I pulled them down quickly, bending as I did so and helping him step out of them. I looked up, searching for his eyes but before I could meet them I realised my face was now level with his crotch. His naked crotch. He looked down at me, all raised eyebrows, and I started to blush as the blood rushed to my head.

I let myself do what came naturally and took his cock in my hand. It was already starting to get hard so I closed my eyes and ran my tongue along the length of the underside. Ben moaned softly as I opened my eyes to look at him, and he took off my t shirt, which he was still wearing, dropping it on the pile with the other items.

I circled my tongue around the tip of him and looked up at his face, which was becoming flushed as well. The look of enchantment on his face was adorable. He tasted of salt and sweat and I licked again, placing my hands carefully on his muscular thighs to steady myself. 

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back a little. I took this as my sign to continue, motioning to him to sit on the bed, which he did, leaning back on his hands. 

I knelt between his legs and gripped his thighs tightly, just high enough to tease him, rubbing my thumbs lightly across his smooth skin. I flicked my tongue up and down his length, taking time to notice which movements caused the best reactions. 

Then I took him firmly in my hand and used strong strokes, backwards and forwards, seeking a rhythm. I watched his face carefully and could see his breath hitching in his chest as he willed me on. I closed my eyes and relaxed, letting my hand continue while I closed my mouth around him. 

I pressed my tongue flat against his cock inside my mouth, taking as much of him as I could, using my hand at the base, moving in time with my head. Ben groaned, a low guttural moan that I could feel vibrating through his entire body and which sent a pulse shooting straight to between my legs. 

As I continued, I increased the speed slightly and began alternate between sucks and more flicks of my tongue. I could tell Ben was beginning to lose control and he reached out to touch my head, fisting his hands in my matted hair. I moaned and looked up at him, his cheeks rosy, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He rocked his hips in small thrusts as I let go of him and just used my mouth, letting myself get lost in my desire to please him.

"Annahh... I'm close, I'm... Ah, I'm going to..."

I urged him on with my eyes and pleaded with him that it was OK, it was what I wanted. Lose control for me, I screamed in my head.

Ben's thrusts became erratic and I found it hard to keep the rhythm while he was squirming underneath me, but I didn't need to worry. He was so close that when I put my hands out, gently touching the very tops of his legs, and brushing against the skin of his balls he let out a huge roar and jammed his cock hard into my mouth. I used my tongue to prevent me gagging, as he found his release, his hands gripping my head firmly, hot salty liquid filling my mouth. 

He let go of my head, panting and letting out tiny grunts of appreciation as I swallowed quickly and released him from my mouth. I grinned up at him from between his legs and he smiled exhaustedly back at me. His face was so rosy he looked like a naughty teenager as he tried to regain his composure.

"That was... My god Anna," he lisped and my heart skipped a beat, hearing him say my name in his post-orgasmic high. He had totally relinquished his much-loved control and I realised it was the first time I had seen him like that. And it was all for me; his vulnerability shining through as he allowed another barrier to be lifted. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I came to terms with another shift in our relationship. 

I blinked away the tears and in that moment I knew I was falling in love with him. As we held eye contact and Ben's smile grew, I wondered how long I was going to be able to keep it inside.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small reminder that this is fiction and made up and nothing to do with real life ;)

It was our last night in Whitby. Ben would be returning to London tomorrow, as would I, and reality would be hitting me like a brick wall. I felt a little excited though, at the prospect of actually dating this man, in normal life. We had been in a bubble for the last few days and there was no way the romance and drama could continue at such a pace. I wondered what Ben's busy schedule would allow over the coming weeks and I knew it would be difficult to maintain this level of intensity.

But, for tonight at least, I had him, almost all to myself. And I intended to make the most of it. He would be finished filming at around seven so I spent a long time getting ready for the wrap party. It would be a tiny gathering, just the cast and crew, but I wanted to make a bit of an effort, especially after being covered in sand and sea water.

I had found something vaguely appropriate to wear in one of the least tacky shops in Whitby and managed to straighten my hair. I purposely let my fringe hang in front of my eyes as I knew it would drive Ben mad. I finished my makeup and added a small spritz of perfume.

Ben arrived back at around 7.30pm and I had already helped myself to a glass of wine from the minibar. He strode into the room and enveloped me in a huge hug, planting a tiny kiss on my forehead. Then he showered and I sat in the armchair and chatted to him while he dressed quickly.

"What else can we do about Ruth?" I asked him as he spent far too long trying to style his hair. The errant curl was not behaving tonight and it made my insides scream in delight.

"Hmmm." He growled. "I'm not sure we can do anything much at the moment. In fact, you shouldn't worry about it, if you can manage that. This type of thing happens from time to time. We'll have to hope she gets bored with it. I truly hate people taking secret photos of me but with the number of phones around its becoming impossible to stop it happening. It's a downside to my job that I was aware of when I started and I have to try and deal with it. It's a high-class problem though, really."

I smiled. "You went into interview mode then, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Don't even realise when I'm doing it sometimes."

"How's the hair working out?"

"Not playing the game." He mumbled.

"Can I help you?" I stood and walked into the bathroom where he was leaning in to the mirror.

"Nope." He stopped my arm before I could touch him. "Don't. We're already late for the party. If you start playing with my hair we may never get there."

He leaned in towards me and I thought I was going to get a lesson in the seven dwarves again. But instead of a kiss I got a bop on the nose with one hand, his other clasping mine tightly.

"Are you ready?" he whispered in my ear.

"Um." I said as my brain caught up and I remembered how to move my feet. He swept out of the room, grabbing his jacket off the bed and pulling me with him.

***  
We spent some time mingling and chatting with the people at the party. Ben was, as expected, a total gentleman, introducing me to people and including me in the conversation. It was interesting to watch him turning on the charm and he was just like people said he was. He listened carefully to what was being said and he loved making little jokes; sometimes they weren't funny and sometimes people didn't get them. He often put his soft hand on the small of my back in a subtly affectionate gesture and which sent a tingle down to my toes.

After about an hour he ushered me towards a small table and we sat down with fresh drinks.

"Everything alright?" I asked him.

"Of course." He grinned. "I just felt like sitting down for a while. Talk to me, tell me something unusual I didn’t know. I feel like it's all been about me up here. Getting bored of myself"

I hated this sort of question. "OK," I took a sip of my drink and thought quickly. Then I remembered something I thought he would enjoy.

"When I was at university I was in the University Challenge team," I said. He put his drink down on the table and tilted his head at me, a sly smile forming on his lips. I continued, "Yeah. But we didn't get far enough to get through to the TV show." I laughed and hoped he would do what I wanted him to. 

He did. "Some of you may recognise me from last year's TV tournament!" He enunciated perfectly in the style of Patrick Watts, giving his head a little wobble and trying to look pompous. I laughed out loud. "Let's just CRACK on, shall we?" He continued. "Ah, don't think I can remember any more!" He laughed and downed some of his drink.

“I loved Starter for 10.” I said as we both giggled. “My friends love it too.” 

“We should go to a pub quiz when we’re back in London.” He said. 

“I would love that! Now, can I get you another drink Mr C?” 

“Mmmm, that would be great. Whisky, thank you, Anna.” His voice dropped low. 

I smiled and closed my eyes briefly as I heard him say my name.

I stood up to go to the bar and he looked up at me, his eyes twinkling grey in the dim light. “Anna.” He said again. I frowned. “I like to say it.” He said, winking at me and emptying his glass.

I turned and walked to the bar and I knew that his eyes never left me.

***

We talked some more nonsense, I confided that although Khan was a huge turn on, I also had a massive crush on Martin Crieff and he thought that was very funny. Ben asked me about my job working with homeless people and we talked about that for a while. We were joined by a few others from the party and we chatted, and drank, and chatted, and drank. Olliver was no-where to be seen, and neither was Ruth, and it felt like a weight had been lifted. 

Suddenly it was gone eleven and we were both reasonably drunk. It had crept up on me, and possibly Ben too. Most of the people who had been at the party had disappeared, and those who were left were also well inebriated. When I tried to stand up I stumbled a little and fell onto Ben’s lap, plonking down with a thud and kicking the table in the process. He caught me like a pro and tipped me backwards in his arms so I couldn’t pull myself up. He looked down, eyes now hazy through drink but still shining as only his could do.

Opening his mouth to say something, he swiped my fringe away from my face and looked over me, from my eyes to my hair, down to my lips. Then he smiled a big, drunk, lopsided, crinkly smile and kissed me, whispering: “I’ve thought of some new dwarves Anna, get upstairs. Now.”


	21. Chapter 21

We staggered back to his room and Ben unlocked the door with exaggerated movements and over the top arm waving. Throwing open the door and holding it with one arm he ushered me in, mumbling something to himself, which I thought was extremely funny.

Once inside the room, he sat down on the bed and watched me lazily with a cocky smile on his face, as I took off my slinky top and then my shoes. I stumbled as I bent down on one leg and had to steady myself on the table. I giggled and abandoned undressing in favour of sitting down next to Benedict on the bed. I stretched out my legs next to his and marvelled at the difference. 

“Go on forever…” I slurred.

“Hmmm?” He turned to look at me, head bent low.

“Nothing. Long legs is all.”

“Come here you.” He rumbled.

Ben lifted his hand to my cheek and straightened his back. I could see he was trying to sober himself up and I thought I should do the same, so I took a deep breath and steadied myself against the bed. He took my head in both hands and pressed his closed lips to mine, holding them there for what felt like minutes. I could feel his soft breath on my face and I desperately wanted to open my eyes but I feared I would start laughing if I did. The tension and the booze and the intensity of these situations were making me unable to control my emotions properly.

He opened his mouth and licked at my lips with the tip of his tongue, running it gently across and up and down and the sensation was so subtly erotic that all I could feel was what was happening to my mouth, everything else felt numb. I let him continue until the need to open my own mouth became too much and I acquiesced to his increasing persistence.

As my lips parted he let out a tiny moan and I felt his body inch closer to mine, his leg crossing over to hook around my ankles at the side of the bed. Ben ran his tongue along my top lip, catching on my teeth, as I made small flickers of my own in reply. It took all my self-control not to push him back onto the bed and straddle him, to let go of my own aggression.

He tilted his head further and took my bottom lip in his mouth, skimming the flesh with his teeth and eliciting an involuntary moan from me. This spurred him on further and he moved a hand down my neck and up into my hair, holding me firmly in place. A shiver went down my spine with each of his movements, which were so controlled I wondered how he was managing it after many drinks.

He pulled his lips away just as I was breaking into a smile that I couldn’t suppress any longer, the alcohol and heady scent of him mixing delightfully in my brain and making me giddy with anticipation. My desire was heightened further when I thought about the amazing ability of this man to be delightfully sensitive and utterly in control of me at the same time. But it was funny. 

I cleared my throat but I couldn’t stop the giggles and I collapsed on my side on the bed as Ben looked heartbroken at me.

“I’m sorry… I…” I burst between shakes of laughter. “It’s… just… too much!”

“What is?” He looked hurt.

“You! You’re too fucking much. Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“Not quite what I wanted to happen,” he mumbled. “Why are you laughing?” He still looked serious but I could see a flicker of amusement forming at the corner of his full lips, which were pink and actually begging to be kissed again.

“Oh, I’m not laughing at you.” I got a hold of myself and turned onto my back. “It’s… you’re a great kisser, you know.” He smiled properly at me and leant over me to put his finger to my lips.

“Of course I am,” he purred into my ear, trailing his finger down my neck to my bra. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as all traces of amusement disappeared and I could again feel the tension rising in the air between us. Of course he was.

“You know it will be a few days before I can see you again?” he said suddenly. I jerked my eyes open and crashed back to earth with a bump. He gazed down at me and his hair fell forward onto his forehead. I frowned at him. “I – I – I have to go to New York on Sunday, but I will be back Wednesday; do you think we could do something on Thursday?” I just smiled at him in response. Too right we would do something on Thursday, I thought. Did he think I was going to refuse that? It surprised me that he suddenly seemed unsure of himself and it was cute. 

“I’ll look forward to it.” I said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Good,” Ben said and kissed me again, harder this time, bringing his legs up onto the bed and straddling my stomach, taking his weight on his knees. I looked down to see his enormous hands on my breasts and his jeans bulging at the fly. I groaned and threw my arms, outstretched, onto the bed…


	22. Chapter 22

I looked down to see his enormous hands on my breasts and his jeans bulging at the fly. I groaned and threw my arms, outstretched, onto the bed…

Ben moved his hands incredibly slowly across my body, his eyes switching between me and his own hands. He looked distant, as though he was watching himself from afar. He ran his fingers lazily across the material of my bra and down my tummy, then back again. "What can I do?" He asked me, wide eyed and desperate to please.

"Oh, Ben." I hitched up on my elbows and he met my mouth with his, sucking on my bottom lip again. Then he moved down, kissing my neck and down to the tops of my breasts, running his thumbs across my hard nipples, through the material. "I need you to touch me, look at me." I said, as I placed my hands on his chest. His denim shirt felt soft under my fingers and his body warm and hard underneath. I moved up to his face and cupped his cheeks in my hands to pull him in for another short kiss, his eyes never leaving mine.

I slowly undid each of the buttons on his shirt as he leant back on his knees. My fingers fumbled a bit as my brain struggled to control them, and he helped me along, smiling with just his eyes, which were crinkling the corners. There was such affection in his face that I thought I might burst.

As he removed his shirt I put my fingers into his hair slowly, letting my hands run gently across his head. He groaned in pleasure and kissed me again. Taking my bottom lip in his mouth he teased at me with his tongue and scraped his teeth across, making me feel like my lips were the very centre of me. He cupped my face in his large hands and whispered my name against my lips. The warmth of his breath against my mouth started to drive me mad and I lifted my hips off the bed to grind myself against him.

Wriggling down and off the bed, he knelt on the floor and reached up to undo my trousers, taking his time over the button. Each time his fingers brushed over the skin of my tummy it was like a crackle of electricity passed between us and I ached to feel him between my legs again. Sliding down my trousers, he dropped them on the floor and kissed up each leg, from the back of my knees, right up to the top of my thigh and where he could see I was ready for him. Hooking his elegant fingers around the top of my knickers he removed those too.

I was now almost naked. Just my bra remained and it suddenly felt constricting. The tight strap around my chest was cutting in to my skin and preventing me from taking a breath deep enough to satisfy my need for air. I opened my eyes as Ben worked his mouth up, again, teasingly close to where I had wanted him only seconds ago. I could feel my breath becoming ragged and I struggled to control it as my heart started pounding in my chest. It felt like something hard was hitting my throat repeatedly and I couldn't make it stop. It burned inside and all I could hear was the banging rhythm of my blood rushing around my head. I felt sick.

"Ben." I gasped and he moaned, in what he thought was agreement, back at me. "Ben! S-stop!"

He stopped but didn't pull away. He waited, hands still on my legs, and I fought against my own body to regain control.

"Anna?" He whispered.

"Stop. I need to stop!" I panted between desperate gasps and through what felt like a completely closed airway. "I'm... Sorry... Just stop."

He released my legs and stood quickly. His face appeared next to mine on the bed and he put a hand out to my arm, gripping it tightly. "Here, sit up."

He pulled me up onto his chest and rested my head against his skin there, putting both arms around me as I heaved and shook. Ben sat holding me as gradually my heart slowed and my breaths became more regular. I felt like I was in control of my body again and closed my eyes as I listened to his own heart beating though his soft skin against my ear. He made small squeezes of his fingers on my arms as he waited for me to calm.

"Ben. I don't know what happened. I couldn't breathe."

"Shhh. It's OK."

"It's just all too much to take in. This is so intense I don't know how to process it properly. How did we get here?" I knew I was rambling. "I've never felt like this before and I've never had anyone be so amazing with me before and I'm scared."

"I know," was all he said in response. We lay down where we sat on the bed and stayed there for what seemed like hours. His arms wrapped around me, along with a sheet he pulled off the bed and covered us both with. I drifted in and out of sleep but eventually had to get up to use the bathroom.

As I washed my hands, I stared into the mirror and ran a hand through my hair. My mind felt blank and I had the beginnings of a hangover. I brushed my teeth and splashed some cold water over my face.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Ben had moved up to the pillows and re-covered the bed with the sheets. He was breathing softly, although not quite asleep. As I slipped under the sheets I lay on my side facing away from him. The hotel room had cooled and I realised Ben had opened a window to let some fresh air in. I took a deep breath and appreciated being able to fill my lungs. I felt an arm snake across my hips and he pulled me closer to him. He nuzzled his face into my hair and I just heard a breath of a whisper, as I fell into a deep sleep: "Anna... You..."

***

When I woke up Ben was already showered and was throwing on some clothes. I sat up in bed and pulled the sheet around me as he said "I've put your clothes and things in your case, I hope you don't mind?" I smiled at him, rushing around like a whirlwind, picking up discarded items and distributing them equally into the waste bin and his own suitcase. I wondered if he'd already been at the coffee this morning.

"Will you drop me up at the beach so I can pick up the bike?" It sounded so mundane, like he was asking me to get a pint of milk. It made me worry about him.

"Ride carefully, Ben."

"Of course." He walked over to me and planted a kiss on my forehead. "I'll wave at you on the motorway!" I knew he would.


	23. Chapter 23

I drove home that morning. It was a grey day, thick clouds hanging in the sky and tiny specks of rain persistently fogging my windscreen. I tried listening to music, then the radio, but eventually settled on the sounds of the wipers and the constant rumble of the road under the wheels. I had a growing feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was trying hard to ignore, but I was unable to be distracted from it as I headed home from my incredible time with Ben.

I was in love with a film star. An actor. Someone who made their living from pretending to be someone else. Who travelled all over the world and was constantly fighting demands on his time. I, meanwhile, was a homelessness charity worker who spent too long daydreaming, thinking of things I should have said way after it would have been appropriate and who, apparently, drank far too much. That's why I had a panic attack.

I ran over it in my mind; not just the fact that I had almost hyperventilated in the most embarrassing situation possible, but that it didn't seem to bother him. None of it. He'd even said he liked it; my lack of interest in publicity and my 'refreshing' normality. Well, that's what I would give him, I decided. He wanted normal, let's have normal. I had told him I would cope with the fame aspect. Said it wouldn't bother me, and so far I was winning that particular battle. But something was bothering me, and short of seeing a therapist, I couldn't completely put my finger on it.

I arrived home a few hours later and got a text from Alex inviting me to hers for tea that evening with Fran and Alice. It was a lovely comforting feeling to be spending time with my friends again after the emotional time I'd had in Whitby. I unpacked my case, showered and dressed in a clean pair of jeans, t shirt, jacket and scarf. I sent a text to Ben to see if he had arrived home OK, and realised I didn't know what his house was like. I knew many intimate things about him and yet I'd never been in his bedroom or drank tea from his own mugs.

He replied about ten minutes later, as I was checking my emails before I went out.

*I am home. Drove carefully as requested. Packing for tomorrow, I hate it! Enjoy your evening and I'll see you very soon.*

Fairly normal.

*Looking forward to it. Have a safe trip Mr Cumberbatch.* I replied. Normal. I fucking love you! I screamed at my phone as I pressed send, and vowed to myself not to get drunk and text him at any point this week.

***  
Dinner with my friends was great. We watched Armageddon for the hundredth time, ate a lovely pork recipe that Alice had discovered, and I avoided drinking too much wine. I wanted to think clearly over the next few days and I owed it to myself to do it properly.

I enjoyed the time with them so much that I was actually surprised to see my phone flashing at me as I started the short walk home from Alex's house. I hadn't thought about Ben for a whole evening but now he was ringing me and I suddenly felt like a teenager, butterflies dancing in my stomach as I answered the call.

"Hi," he sounded sleepy and as sexy as hell.

"Hey. Why are you awake? I thought you had to be at Heathrow before 8?"

"I was asleep. But I woke up, and..." He broke off.

"You couldn't sleep?" I giggled.

"I missed the feel of you in my arms."

I couldn't speak for a minute. I carried on walking and concentrated on the sound and movement of my footsteps on the damp pavement.

"Anna, will you come to me?"

What should I do now? Drop everything and go to him? Retain some self respect and stick to my plan of a few days clear to work out why I was feeling out of sorts? I really wanted to go to him but I was afraid it was something different for him; perhaps a habit he had unwittingly formed while we had been away, like when you eat the same thing for lunch for days on end?

"Please? I will be gone early and I won't see you until our date on Thursday, and... God, I don't know why I'm doing this. It would just be good to, you know, see you once more before I go. I'll be on a different continent!"

"Ben," I started. "I don't know if that's the best idea. I..." But as I tried, I couldn't think of an acceptable reason. For myself let alone for him.

"Hang on. I'm jumping in a taxi."

He let out a deep breathy sigh. "Ah, Anna, I'll be waiting for you." He hung up before I could speak again. Damn it Benedict!

I called his number straight back. "Ben!" I hissed.

"Hmmm?" sleepy again.

"Your address, you idiot? I don't know where you live!"

He guffawed at me down the phone. "Sorry. Don't want too many fans knowing where I live, do I?" He chuckled. Then he gave me his address, which I relayed to the taxi driver. I hung up the phone and stared out of the window as we passed streetlight after streetlight, throwing orange stripes across the inside of the car.

I had nothing with me, just the bag I'd taken to Alex's. I worried that I should have cleaned my teeth, or brushed my hair, or... Oh Anna get a fucking grip. I could hear all three of my friends shouting at me in my head.

We pulled up and I paid the cabbie. I jumped out and stood on the pavement opposite Ben's building and stared up at the windows. It was a large Victorian house that had been split into flats and Ben's was on the top two floors. There were a couple of the windows lit up by dim lighting but I couldn't see much else. I made my way slowly up the steps and rang the buzzer for the flat number Ben had given me. It buzzed back at me and I opened the large, heavy front door, slipping inside.

I set foot on the bottom step of the wide staircase and heard a door creak at the top of the hallway. "Anna?" he whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

"Come up... Why are we whispering?"

I laughed loudly and then remembered that we were probably whispering because it was nearly midnight. When I reached the top of the stairs, there was Ben, wearing just pyjama bottoms, his feet and his chest bare. His hair was all over the place and he hadn't shaved since the previous day so a smattering of ginger stubble was forming nicely across his chin.

He bent his head low and kissed me and all the uncertainly and navel-gazing of the previous fifteen minutes evaporated in a flash.

Taking my warm hand firmly in his cool one, he led me into his flat. It was beautifully decorated, from what I could make out in the near-darkness; in keeping with the era of the property, but with a few modern touches. He led me up another flight of stairs and into his bedroom.

We walked in, and I looked around me. It was just how I had pictured it, a big solid oak sleigh bed with crisp white sheets and fluffy pillows, a French window that looked like it led onto a roof terrace, and lovely period details like a cast iron fireplace. There were a few paintings on the walls. An armchair to the side of the bed was covered with recently discarded clothes.

Without speaking, Ben slipped my jacket down over my shoulders and placed it on top of his clothes on the chair. He hooked his fingers under the hem of my t shirt and tugged upwards, pulling it over my head, and as he threw it on the increasing pile my fringe covered my eyes and I smiled. He moved my hair away as he bent and kissed me once on the lips and then three times, over my collar bone, making me shiver. I undid the button of my jeans and took off my boots as he held out his hand to me.

And then he pulled me onto the bed with him, lying behind me as I was on my side, wriggling and kicking out of my jeans. As I dropped them next to the bed I felt his arm on my shoulder as he covered us with the bed sheet, and his hand came to rest on my tummy. The bed smelled of washing powder and cinnamon and of him, and I buried my face into a pillow as I felt his whole body relax into sleep. I was sure I heard him whisper something but it was too late to ask him; he was fast asleep, long steady breaths tickling my back as he lay pressed up next to me.


End file.
